I am not lonely [Mystrade]

CHAPTER 25 : Front Page

Mycroft opened an eye, awoken by his phone ringing on the bedside table. He looked at the hour displayed on the clock while taking the call. It was five and a half in the morning and the official was wondering what had happened to deserve a call in the middle of the night.
"Holmes speaking." he started, his voice rough.
"Sir" answered the voice of Anthea. "We have a problem. The incident in Mazari Sharif is out in the press. I just got the latest issue of the Guardian and it's front page."
"Shit." the auburn sighed. "Who gave the out the information ?".
"We don't know, we are trying to find it." informed his PA. "The Guardian won't give us their source of course."
"I'm coming. Diogene Club in half an hour." retorted Mycroft before hanging up the phone and throwing his leg out of the bed. His lover was still snoring gently and the official dressed quietly, taking care not to wake him up.
His driver was waiting for him in the alley and handled him a copy of the Guardian before they took off. Mycroft took advantage of the 10 minutes drive to the club to run through the different articles on the subject that matter to him. It was even worse than what the official had expected, the front page of the paper arboring a huge 'SIS failure : Agent killed and national security compromised' title and the screenshot of CCTV depicturing the two brothers Bin Hassam that Anthea had shown him some days ago.
The Diogene Club was quiet, and all the lounges that Mycroft walked across were empty of their usual users. He reached his office where his personal assistant was already awaiting him. "Any news ?" he started, hanging his coat on the door.
"We have found the email address that has been leaking the information to the Guardian. We are trying to trace it at the moment." answered the young woman, handling her boss a stack of papers.
"It's someone from the house ?" enquire the official.
"I'm afraid it is, yes. At least it's someone who have access to the files ..." nodded Anthea.
Mycroft sat in his armchair, sighing heavily. "Thank you. Keep me updated." he added to the woman before starting to read the reports she had given him. It wasn't the first time the auburn had to deal with a leak in a secret operation or report, the last of it being due to his own little brother, but it was always one of the hardest task of his job.

Gregory woke up and stretched his arms, the sun caressing his face through the badly closed curtains. He rolled on himself to face the other side of the bed but his hand only encountered the cold sheet instead of his partner's skin. With a little sad pout he opened his eyes and sat, his back against the bedhead.
He stared at the wall, still waking up, during a few minutes before finding enough courage to throw himself off of the bed. He dressed up in his usual grey suit and white shirt that he wore when going to work. He never really had questioned his work outfit, wearing the same type of suit since he entered the Yard, despite the fact that Mycroft thought that he could find something suiting him better. The only conceding he had made to him was to let the official buy him new luxury white shirts made by his own tailor on Savile Road.
He exited the room, going down the stair to the dinning room to take his breakfast. On the room's door, he found a sticky note left by Mycroft. 'Sorry for leaving without telling you but you were to charming sleeping for me to wake you up. I'm at the Diogene Club, I'll call you later. Have a good day, I love you. M-'. The detective smiled and fold the paper, putting it in the chest pocket of his suit.

"Sir, we need to go now." urged the PA, standing on the door step of her boss's office.
Mycroft sighed for the hundredth time in the last hours and raised to his feet. He had been convened to an urgent meeting by the Parliament Intelligence and Security Committee but he still had nothing concrete to show them about the leak. His services haven't been able yet to identify the Guardian's source and he knew that the committee would be very unpleased about this.
The official and his assistant joined the car waiting for them in front of the Club,  Anthea not looking away from her phone's screen, typing quickly on the keyboard. It was still early in the morning and the traffic was packed with people heading to their offices, making the journey twice longer than it should usually be. Taking advantage of this time away from his office, Mycroft grabbed his phone and composed Greg's number.
"Hello, DI Lestrade speaking" the latter introduced himself in his usual formal and slightly bored voice.
"Hello darling ..." said the auburn softly.
"Myc' !" retorted the detective, his voice much more cheerful. "How are you doing ? Why have you left that early?"
"Have you read the Guardian ? We have a new leak ... I'm sorry but I will probably be home very late tonight ..." the elder Holmes apologized.
He could hear his partner muttering on the other side of the phone. "I'm sorry ..." the official repeated, his voice low.
"I know honey ... I know ... Well, keep me updated then ." answered the inspector, resigned.
"Of course. I love you Gregory." resumed the governmental official still using a soft and apologetic voice.
"I love you too. See you later." answered the yarder before hanging up. Mycroft pocketed his phone a few seconds before the driver parked in the underground carpark of the Parliament. He didn't knew who else was going to join the meeting, but he hoped that Malvert wouldn't be allowed to take part.

The meeting was to take place in a small room on the third floor, far from the chambers well know by the public. Mycroft was a little late because of the traffic so when he stepped in theroom, all the other participants were already sat around the table. The official took the last seat, Anthea staying in the corridor as always. To the greatest pleasure of the auburn, Malvert hadn't been invited, neither does any of his assistants, the only representant ofthe MI6 around the table being James Witterbury, the executive director of operations.

"Mr Holmes finally. Shall we start ?" intervened Sir Jeffrey Patterson, the MP in charge of the Committee. Mycroft nodded, opening the file displayed in front of him. There was nothing new to him in it, most of the information contained in it resulting of the enquires of his own services. The only new document to him was the official order of mission of James Strawbridge, specifying his exact duty in Mazary Sharif.
"As you all know by now, the Guardian has leaked informations on Strawbridge's death." continued Sir Jeffrey Patterson. "Mr Holmes, have you traced the paper's source yet ?"
"We are still working on it. We have an anonymous email address and my services are trying to trace it down." retorted the official.
"Right. It's really important to find this or those culprits before they leak the rest of the informations." advised Patterson, using the sort of tone a headmaster would use to lecture a student who would be late in his homework.
Mycroft didn't took umbridge of the MP's remark, used to this kind of behaviour by the politicians, people who, in the eyes of the official, were always trying to pretend to the public that they were the people in charge to get re-elected, keeping quiet the role played by the officials and the secret services.

The Committee was discussing the communication strategy the government shall use to deal with the revelations when Anthea stood in the room, approaching her boss. Displaying a couple of printed sheets of paper in front of him, she whispered to his ear. "We have a name for the address.".
The official nodded and started reading the documents his PA had given him. It was a short report from his services designating an MOD employee, Simon Partridge, as the culprit. His biography enclosed in the document mention no precedent trust issues or any kind of other concern about his loyalty.
"Patterson ?" interfered Mycroft. "I've got some news."
The MP stopped his demonstration and turn to the auburn, asking for silence from the others.
"Simon Partridge, MOD employee. No precedent loyalty concern, at our service for 12 years. My services are proceeding to his arrest at the moment we are speaking." explained Mycroft. "If you would excuse me, I shall probably head back to my office to monitor the questioning.".
The people in the assembly nodded and start whispering one to the others while the elder Holmes was collecting his belongings and leaving the room. The meeting becoming a simple politic and communication strategy meeting, the official had seen no use of him staying around the table.
It was already 4 in the afternoon and he still hadn't eaten anything apart from a couple of biscuits with his morning tea and he asked to his driver to stop in front of a take-away Vietnamese caterer on his way to the Cabinet Office. While Anthea was out, queuing for a sandwich, the auburn texted Greg, keeping him updated as he had promised him earlier. He was wishing that the questioning would be short and easy but he had very few hopes that things would be that easy.

Gregory felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. He was sat behind a table in the conference room, listening to Sally Donovan who was explaining to the press the enquire regarding the cut-in-pieces student case. He discreetly grabbed his phone and looked under the table at the text he had received. 'Moving to the Cabinet Office. We have identified our culprit. I hope I can be home before midnight. See you later. Love. -M'.
The detective smiled, stopping as soon as he caught the glance his colleague throwing at him. He coughed gently, focusing back on the press conference. Most of his colleagues were enthusiastic at the perspective of talking to the press, at least when like now, it was to announce a success, but Greg had never really liked this exercise, and far preferred letting Donovan lead the conference when it was possible.
Looking at the crowd in front of him absentmindly the detective waited until he could escape the room and the annoying questions of the press. Sally was answering the last question of the daily mail when the inspector started collecting all the papers spread on the table. The both of them then left the room by a door near the table and climbed back to the fourth floor.