Pro's Big Bang 2011 Broken Trust Part 3
Chapter Fifteen
The isolation was starting to take its toll. He’d had the training to deal with it, but somehow it never did match up to the reality of being wounded, cold, hungry and alone in the dark for hours and days on end. He had no idea how long he had been confined. The unconsciousness that followed the beatings and the disorientation brought on by lack of food and water stole all sense of passing time. He had no contact with anyone. Food appeared at odd intervals, always left when he was asleep. He had recently started talking to the rats that ran through the cellar. At least the sound of his voice broke the constant silence that had become like a second presence in the gloom. The worst of it was he had nothing to do but think. Think and consider all moves that had landed him here, think about all that he had done to get into this mess, think about the bridges in flames behind him, think about Bodie.
And where was Bodie? Why hadn’t he come? Bodie had seen Smythe take him in the warehouse. He drew in a sharp breath as his temper flared. “Bodie believed I was with Smythe!” The fact that he hadn’t been rescued yet finally hit him with a painful truth. Bodie really did believe he had turned. Anger built. How could Bodie believe it? They’d been partners for eight fucking years. Bodie knew him better than anyone else ever had... ever would. Bodie had often teased him about his conscience and his unbending sense of right and wrong. Knowing how much he suffered for his strict sense of morality, how could Bodie think he would really be part of a drug running scheme? Maybe they really didn’t understand each other as well as they thought...“Bloody hell!” He wasn’t thinking clearly. He was injured and tired and cold and, yes... scared. None of this was Bodie’s fault. Bodie had been set up and it was unpardonable to blame him for doing what he was led to do. There was no point in this brooding. “And wasn’t that pillock always telling me that?” The anger was burning up what little reserves he had left and he knew he was directing it at the wrong man. He closed his eyes and silently asked his partner’s forgiveness.
The beatings finally stopped and they were feeding him a bit better, a bit more often. They gave him a warmer blanket. Something had changed. There were more footsteps and voices overhead, more arguments. He was able to make out some of what they were saying. He heard Mullins yell that he was sick of being stuck in this hideout. Another voice told him to wait a bit longer; their plans were being set in motion. The voices got quieter and he could no longer clearly hear what was being said. He heard several footsteps on the stairs. They were coming. He tried to sit up but his head spun and his throat closed up. He lay back down. He didn’t want them to find him unconscious.
“Okay Ray, mate, we need to get you ready.” Smythe was all smiles again.
Ray remained silent.
Smythe leaned over the cot and took Ray’s hands, pulling him into a sitting position. Sweat broke out on his face. The movement set his bruised body on edge. He bit back a whimper.
“Easy, lad.” Smythe patted him on the shoulder. “I need you to hold this newspaper and smile pretty for the camera.”
The Times was forced into his hands and he cringed as the camera flashed in his eyes.
Smyth answered his unvoiced question. “You’re going to be our ticket out of here.”
Ray laughed. It came out as a hoarse croak. “I’ve been dead to CI5 for as long as you’ve had me. They won’t deal with you.”
“Not CI5 we’re dealin’ with, Doyle,” Smythe winked at him conspiratorially. “I’ve got some foreign friends who are really anxious to meet you. We need the photo to show them what we’ve got to trade.”
Ray turned away from Smythe, hoping to hide the fear that flashed through him. He had a pretty good idea who these foreign friends were. He knew all too well what kind of treatment guests of those particular foreign friends could expect.
Smythe grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head around to face him. “I’ll be happy to be rid of you, you sodding bastard. You’ll finally be getting what you deserve.”
Ray shook his head, trying to get out of Smythe’s grasp. “Wasting your time, you are. What I know about CI5 will all have changed by now. I’m useless.” He gasped as Smythe tightened the grip in his hair.
“You better hope, for your sake, that you are wrong.” Smythe released him, slamming his head back down into the bed. He roughly slapped Ray’s cheek. “Meanwhile we need to keep you from trying anything daft before we can complete our transaction.”
Smythe nodded to one of the figures standing behind him. The man handed something to Smythe and then pinned Ray to the cot by his shoulders. Ray winced as he felt the wound on his right shoulder reopen. The blood running down onto the cot was forgotten as he watched Smythe slide a needle in to his arm.
“No,” he whispered as Smythe laughed at him. The room spun sickeningly.
“A little something to keep you quiet, mate.” He heard Smythe’s voice from far away as Smythe and his boys went back up the stairs.
Chapter Sixteen
Bodie looked around the bar. It was a quiet place. Most of the customers looked like regulars, probably all dock workers. He fit in with his black polo neck and jeans. He had been surprised when Martell had set up this meeting, no explanation given. He ordered a pint and found a table near the door. Martell entered flanked by two very large blokes. Bodie smiled. He nodded at Marty; the message was received. Martell joined him.
“Missed me, did you?” He winked at Martell. “What’s this urgent news you mentioned?”
“Heard some rumours,” Martell took a deep pull of his lager.
“Don’t deal in rumours, mate. Nothin’ but facts.”
“Okay hardman, but these rumours are coming out of Blackpool.”
“Blackpool,” Bodie’s eyes narrowed.
“Thought that would interest you,” Martell smiled.
“Go on.”
“Word is a couple of blokes are looking for passage out of the country.”
“That’s nothin’ new. Lots of thugs are looking to leave their pasts behind.”
“These thugs, as you so nicely put it, have a lot of money and pure uncut on offer.”
“Drugs and money, now that is interesting. Who are they talkin’ to?”
“Rumour says it’s the Russians.”
“KGB.”
“Yeah and here’s the kicker. These blokes are sweetening the deal with another offer, an information source.”
“Doyle,” Bodie tensed.
“That was my thought. That’s why I called you. I’d hate to see that nasty little git go out that way.”
Bodie chuckled darkly. “You’re getting soft, Marty.”
“Nah. Know what he means to you, don’t I? Don’t want you getting all difficult because someone took your favourite toy away from you.” The sarcasm was clear.
He downed the last of his drink. Martell leaned in and quietly gave him a name.
“I’ll let him know you’re comin’. He has the information on where these blokes might be holed up.”
“Thanks, Marty. If this pans out, I’ll owe you one.”
“You already do, mate.” Marty laughed quietly but the laughter did not reach his eyes.
He clapped Martell on the shoulder and left the bar. Thoughts that this information on Doyle and the case he and Murphy had been given might tie together raced through his mind. Maybe he had finally caught a break. Now he had to decide how to handle the information. He wanted to go after Ray on his own. He didn’t want to risk Ray’s life if it was him being traded for safe passage. Too many CI5 agents in the area might spook the men he was after, forcing them to move Ray before he could be found. Best he go in alone. He’d use Marty as a backup. He could set things up so that if Martell or his contact in Blackpool didn’t hear from him or Doyle by a specified time, Marty would get in touch with Murphy. Yeah, that would work. Feeling better than he had in a long while, he headed back to headquarters and his obbo with Murphy.
“I don’t like this Bodie. You’re sure this is the place?” Murphy frowned. They were sitting in the car outside a dockside pub. It had started to snow and the building storm whipped icy flakes against the windscreen.
“Martell’s man, Rollins, told him Ray was being held there,” Bodie pointed to a dark structure next to the pub. “He’s in the basement. Rollins tends bar next door and Martell set him up as a contact for Smythe. He had Rollins get friendly with the blokes renting the place so he should know what’s going on. I can’t wait for Cowley, Murphy. There isn’t enough time. It will take him four hours to get here, and that’s if he leaves right now. The swap is going down tonight. I can’t let the Russians get their hands on Ray. According to Rollins, Smythe is supposed to get Ray on the ship in a few hours. Smythe’s gang plans to sail out right after midnight and meet up with a Russian trawler about twelve miles out. Ray would then be handed over to the Russians and in turn, Smythe’s crew is getting safe passage to Norway. There is no time to wait.” He had to go after Ray on his own, why couldn’t Murphy see that? “I can’t let that happen. I have to get to him before they can get him on that ship.” He buttoned up his heavy coat and pulled on his gloves. He picked up the bag he’d packed and slung it over his shoulder.
“Let me go with you then.”
“No, I need you to wait here for back up. If things go wrong, you’ll have to tell it all to Cowley. ”
Murphy sat back in the car seat and glared at him.
“Look, it’s the best I can do, Murphy. I can’t take a chance with Ray’s life.”
“I don’t like it, Bodie,” Murphy said again. “Cowley will have our skins if this goes wrong.”
“Not open for discussion, mate. If you’re worried about yourself, then head back to London.”
“Don’t be an arse, Bodie! I’ll wait for your call. I’ll be there when you need me.”
Bodie felt his face flush and he looked down at his shoes. Murphy laughed and Bodie looked up into understanding eyes.
He tried once more to appease the man. “I’ve got the R/T. If I can’t get Ray out, or if I run into other trouble, I’ll call and I’ll wait for back up if I don’t think I can get in an out cleanly.”
Murphy’s expression let Bodie know he didn’t believe a word of that.
Bodie had enough honesty to look embarrassed at being caught out. He sighed and shook his head.
“I won’t put Ray in any further danger. If it looks safer to wait for backup, for Ray’s sake, I will wait. If you don’t believe anything else I’ve said, you know you can trust that. I’ll bring Ray back to the hotel. You meet Cowley there and then take the rest of these bastards down.”
Murphy nodded reluctantly, starting the car. “Be careful, Bodie. I don’t want to have to explain to Cowley how I lost both the Bisto Kids.”
Bodie gave a short laugh as he got out of the car. He walked casually toward the pub. It was as dirty inside as it was outside. He walked through the haze and up to an old wooden bar. He took a seat at the end. The patrons all looked to be locals. Dressed like they were, no one paid him any attention. The bar served as a watering hole for many of the crews that were just passing though. Strangers were a common sight here.
The bartender, Martell’s man Rollins, walked up to his end of the bar.
“What’ll you have, mate?”
He ordered the lager Martell had said would identify him. Rollins looked him over as he placed the lager and a glass on the bar. Bodie picked up the glass and turned it upside down. Rollins nodded his recognition of the signal. He wandered away to serve another patron. Bodie drank his lager.
Finished with his customers, Rollins came back down to Bodie’s end of the bar. He confirmed the information Martell had given him earlier.
“They have your mate in the house next door,” he said quietly while Bodie finished his drink. “The plan is to move him out around eleven. They have a meet with some fisherman off shore at midnight. Their guest is to be left with the fisherman, while they’ll be put aboard another ship headin’ for Norway.” He looked at Bodie. “I don’t think you want to let your mate get on that ship.”
“No. I don’t.” Bodie ordered another drink.
While he filled Bodie’s order Rollins continued. “Saw them all leave the house about an hour ago. Your man should be alone in there.”
“How many?”
“Five, three Brits and two with funny accents. Those are the ones I’d watch out for.”
“Indeed.” He thanked the man with a raised eyebrow and left money on the bar. As he stepped outside he looked around. It was still snowing and the street was empty. “Now or never,” he thought.
He needed to get Ray out before Smythe’s crew came back. He silently crept close to the house. The house was dark and silent. He made his way to the back and peered in an uncurtained window. He couldn’t see anyone and there was no hint of movement inside. He worked his way slowly around to the front door. There was still no sign that there was anyone else around. He tried the door. It was locked. Despite his heavy gloves, his fingers were numb with cold. He knew he didn’t have the dexterity necessary to pick the lock. He checked the sky and then his watch. Things aren’t going to improve, he told himself. It was time to take the chance and go on in. He took a step back, and with all his weight, he kicked the thick wooden door open. He looked around, but there was no one in the area to notice the noise. He peered carefully around the opening. There was no reaction to his entrance. He quickly rolled through the open door and crouching on his knees, gun held out in front of him, he glanced around the room. He was alone. Keeping his gun ready, he made his way slowly around the front room checking for clues, occupants or his partner. There were no signs of recent habitation. The fact that he was dealing with professionals truly sank in. That didn’t bode well for Ray. There were no dirty dishes left around to provide finger prints, no trace of any food, nothing left sitting around that could lead him back to them. He continued his search. He found a door in the kitchen. This door was locked as well. He threw his shoulder against it and the door snapped open. He waited but again there was no reaction. He stood at the top of the stairs and took a deep breath. There were no lights on in the cellar. Back to the wall, gun in front of him he slowly made his way down the wooden stairs.
Chapter Seventeen
He thought he remembered the sound of the door closing and then nothing. He waited what seemed hours for a footstep above him, but heard nothing. He drifted for a while, the last of the drug leaving his system and realised that he’d been left on his own. This was his one chance to get away before the Russians came to take him. He knew he wasn’t strong enough to hold out against their interrogations. He had to get away, or find a way to take himself out. He would not put the rest of CI5 at risk. He would not put Bodie at risk. He tried to move his arms. Both had been cuffed to the bed frame. He pulled on them, wrenching his shoulders and further tearing the abused flesh of his wrists. No luck. He was too weak to free himself. Frustration took over. He thrashed on the bed, cursing, tangling himself in the tattered rugs, restricting his movements even further. With a final heave against his bonds, he cried out and lost consciousness.
Chapter Eighteen
The inhuman howl startled Bodie, lifting the fine hair on the back of his neck. He waited, not breathing, but the cry did not come again. He reached the bottom of the stairs and made his was cautiously through the dark space. There was a bit of light in the far corner. The room was cold, damp and smelled like human sweat and blood. Someone had been sick down here, and recently. He moved further into the room. There was a narrow bed set up against the far wall, hardly visible in the dim light. He moved closer. There was a body on the bed. At least that was his first impression. There was a lump tangled up in a dirty, ratty rug. That was the source of the smell. A narrow, pale hand lay outside the meagre covers. Bodie coughed, as much to alert the body in the bed as to remove the smell of the unwashed body from his nose and throat. There was no movement from the bed. Bodie leaned in and pulled the covers away from the concealed head exposing lank, greasy hair; it was difficult to tell the colour. “Hey”, he called softly. No response. He tried again, “Mate.” He gently shook a narrow shoulder. The body beneath his hand tensed, then began to shake. A broken voice whispered, “No more… won’t do you any good. I’ve told you all I can…” The words ended with a choked sob. He watched as a battered face fought its way out from under the rug. Empty green eyes stared up at him through bruised lids. Bodie froze. Martell’s information had been correct. He had found his partner.
Chapter Nineteen
He’d felt feverish for what seemed like days, maybe it had turned into delirium. He was sure he heard Bodie’s voice. But that was impossible. Bodie wasn’t here. Bodie wouldn’t be here. Bodie was done with him. He’d said so. “You’re on your own, Doyle.” He remembered that, heard the words echo in his mind. He didn’t remember why they’d been said. Had he done something to make Bodie angry with him? Yes, it seems he had. He’d lied to him. For Cowley. For lavender and roses. No, Bodie wasn’t here. He was on his own. But then who was saying his name over and over? Who was it that was pulling him up out of his blankets and into a strong embrace? Whose hands were softly exploring his wounds? Whose breath hitched in time with his when those hands caused pain? Whose hot tears were slowly inching down the raw skin of his neck?
“Bodie?” His voice was weak, barely a whisper, but he knew the other man heard him when the arms around him tightened. “’s that you?”
“Yeah, it’s me, Ray. I’ve got you.” The voice was thick with tears.
Bodie, weeping? That frightened him. Bodie wasn’t given to such emotional displays.
“Bodie...” Despite the fear, relief flowed through him. He raised shaking hands to the face he never believed he’d see again. He rubbed dirty, bruised fingers over cheeks, eyebrows, lips, until the face under scrutiny broke into a small smile.
“What’s all this in aid of?”
The voice, so familiar, finally convinced him that he wasn’t hallucinating.
“I’m makin’ sure you’re really here... Bodie?” His voice, a trembling rasp, broke on the last word.
Bodie pulled back a bit, but didn’t release him. “It’s me, sunshine... tall, dark, handsome... ”
“... and engagingly modest.” He closed burning eyes and leaned back into Bodie’s arms.
“Ray,” the voice was all serious now. “We’ve got to get you out of here. There are some Russians planning to take you on a bit of a Lubyanka vacation. Am I right in thinking you ‘ll want to pass on that?”
“Yeah, don’t think I fancy their definition of hospitality,” he managed a small grin. Having Bodie here made the pain diminish, gave him a bit of energy.
“First, a bit of my Raffles routine.”
He watched as Bodie took a set of lock picks out of his coat pocket and started to work on the handcuffs. He groaned in relief when his hands were finally free. Bodie gently rubbed his hands and wrists to help return some feeling.
He watched Bodie’s face as the man took the rug from around him revealing all the damage that had been done.
“Bloody hell, Ray,” Bodie’s eyes closed. “They did quite a number on you, didn’t they?”
“No time, Bodie,” he ran his hand across Bodie’s cheek. We have to move, yeah?”
“Can you stand?” Bodie asked as he pulled a jumper from the pack he’d been carrying.
Bodie nodded encouragement as Ray got to his feet. His legs felt like jelly, but he was up. Bodie tossed the jumper at him.
“Get this around you. Let’s see if I can find something else for you to wear. It’s damn cold outside.” Bodie looked around the room. He found the discarded boots and jacket in the corner.
“Here.”
He dressed as quickly as he could. He felt himself reel dizzily, and then felt Bodie’s hands support him.
“Easy, Ray. Let me help.” He saw the look of worry that crossed Bodie’s face. He shared the concern. The exertion of dressing should have left him sweaty, but his skin remained hot and dry. Without a word, Bodie pulled a canteen from the pack.
“Drink, but only a little and slowly.”
He took a few swallows and felt his stomach clench. Bodie grabbed his shoulders.
“Try to keep it down.”
He nodded, taking a few deep breaths. His ribs protested. Speech was now beyond him. After a few more deep breaths and with Bodie rubbing his back, the sick feeling left him.
“I’m okay.” He took a step away from Bodie and staggered.
“Sure you are, sunshine.”
He heard the amusement in his partner’s voice. He caught Bodie’s eye.
“Bodie... I’m sorr...”
“Later.” Bodie cut him off harshly and he saw the walls go up in Bodie’s eyes. Not forgiven then.
“Yeah, okay.”
“We’ve got to go, mate.” He was then wrapped up in the rug from the bed. Bodie handed him the canteen again. “Drink a little more. We’ve got to get you rehydrated.”
After he drank, Bodie helped him up the stairs. He swayed several times but Bodie was always there to steady him. After what seemed like hours to him, they were out of the basement. He was shaking badly.
“Need a rest, Bodie.” He stopped at the top of the stairs and leaned on the wall. His breathing was quick and shallow.
“Not too long, Ray. We don’t want to be here when your hosts get back.”
Bodie ran a hand across his forehead and muttered concern that he still wasn’t sweating. He made him take another small drink of water while he pulled the R/T out of his pocket to call in. Ray’s knees buckled and he collapsed into Bodie. They both watched with dismay as the R/T dropped out of Bodie’s hands and bounced down the stairs.
Chapter Twenty
Bodie cursed silently. He sat Ray down on the top step and turned to go after the R/T. He was stopped by voices outside the house.
“It’s all right, Ray. Murphy knows where we are.” He didn’t add that it would be at least several hours before Murphy suspected that there was anything wrong. “C’mon mate, we can’t stay here.” He put a hand under Ray’s arm and lifted to help his partner stand. If he stopped to think about it, he’d be frightened at how truly weak Ray was. He got Ray to his feet, trying to ignore the shaking in the body clinging to his own. He offered a gentle pat on the back and was met by wide, frightened eyes.
“Don’t know that I can do this, Bodie.” He could barely make out the words.
“’Course you can, sunshine.” He hoped that his doubt was hidden beneath the false bravado. “Nothin’ we can’t do if we’re together.”
His attention was caught again by the sounds of voices and footsteps outside the house. He looked at Ray. This time his gaze was greeted with understanding.
“Whatever we’re going to do, we need to do it now.” He picked up the pack, put an arm around Ray and turned him toward the back door. His plan to get Ray over to the Rusty Scupper was ruined when he saw Mullins standing outside the front of the house, in plain sight of the pub’s door. He’d hoped to use the telephone to call Murphy. Now he’d need to find one somewhere else.
“We’ll get away from the house and down towards the docks. We should be able to find a public phone and something to use as a shelter where we can wait for Murphy and the cavalry.”
The snow was turning into an icy sleet. Ray was chilled. The jumper Bodie had brought and his own leather jacket were not enough protection. They walked as quickly as Ray could, Bodie trying to keep him moving, toward the docks, keeping to the dark shadows of the rundown buildings as much as possible. Ray’s strength was all but spent. Bodie had been half carrying him the last several hundred yards. Then Bodie heard the voices again. He recognised Smythe’s voice and the Russian accent that replied. They had discovered that Ray was gone. He was going to have to quickly find a place to hide.
“There!” He heard a voice call out. “They’re over by the Dunson Warehouse.” He heard footsteps running towards them. He pulled Ray inside an empty building.
“Stay here,” he ordered, shoving a gun into trembling hands.
“Where...?”
“I’m going to draw them off, circle back. You stay here.”
Ray nodded his understanding but he clearly didn’t like the idea of Bodie going off by himself.
“I’ll be back, sunshine. Count on it.” He peered around the doorframe of the building, not seeing anyone. As soon as he was out of the warehouse, shots were fired. He dropped to the ground and rolled behind a rubbish bin. He saw a figure detach itself from the side of the building across the alley.
“Bodie!” He heard Ray’s panicked voice call out.
“I’m alright, Ray. Stay put.”
The figure he’d seen was moving slowly towards him. When it was outlined in the yellow light of a street lamp, he fired. A muffled cry and the man went down. More shots rang out from his right. He rolled back toward the warehouse door, firing a wide spray of bullets as he went.
“We can’t stay here, mate. You ready?” He took in the pale face.
“Bodie, go on and get help. I’ll just slow you down.”
“Not leaving you, Angelfish. Not after everything I’ve already been through to get us this far.” He tried to keep the worry from his voice. He took a quick look around the door and didn’t see anyone. “They must be licking their own wounds,” he thought to himself.
He helped Ray up and together they left their shelter. No shots followed them out. He pointed to a pile of crates on the dock waiting to be loaded.
“There, Ray. We need to make it over there.” A gunshot sounded behind them.
“Gotta move a bit more quickly, sunshine. They’re on us.” He took more of Ray’s weight in his arms and half carried, half dragged his partner behind a pile of crates near the water. He settled Doyle as best he could behind crates and boxes. They were more exposed to the weather out this close to the water, but there wasn’t a better alternative with Smythe and his friends so close behind them. He pulled the rug and Ray’s jacket tighter around the shivering form.
He checked his gun. One bullet left. He took the Walther he’d given to Ray. It still had a full clip.
“Ray.” His partner was now semi-conscious. He took Ray’s shoulder in his hand and gently shook him. “Ray, c’mon, sunshine. You hear me?”
Ray’s eyes refocused slowly as he spoke to him. He got a nod in response.
“I’m going to draw them away. There’s a telephone up the way. I need to call in, get us help.” He cut off Ray’s protest. “There’s no time to argue.” He shoved a gun into Ray’s hands. “There’s one bullet left. They don’t know where you are. If they find you, you know what to do?”
Ray looked up at him, eyes wide and sad. He slowly closed them in resigned acceptance.
He took Ray’s hand and squeezed. “Promise me, Ray. Promise me you won’t let the Russians take you alive.” Ray’s hand tightened around his. “That’s all right then.” He leaned in and brushed a soft kiss across Ray’s lips. Ray’s eyes opened. Blue met green and all the words they didn’t have time for flashed between them: forgiveness, understanding, and love.
Without a backward glance, Bodie left their shelter.
Chapter Twenty One
Ray’s vision blurred, it had to be the snow and sleet that ran into his eyes. He watched the gun in his hand shake. One bullet. Bodie had told him that was all there was left. He saw a dark shape moving in the direction of the last spot where he had seen Bodie. He couldn’t call out a warning without giving away his own hiding place. He feared that if he did yell, Bodie’s position would be exposed. One bullet. Bodie had made him promise to keep that bullet for himself. He shrugged. He had already broken a far bigger promise to his partner.
He slid slowly from behind the crates that concealed him. He was too weak to stand so he crawled slowly toward the Russian. He silently thanked the sleet and wind for covering the sounds of his movement. He didn’t have the strength to concentrate on being quiet. He could see both Bodie and the Russian now. Bodie was moving cautiously across the dock to the public telephone box, unaware of the Russian following even more cautiously behind him. One bullet. He cursed his shaking hands. He would have to get closer to be absolutely sure of his shot. But if he did miss the noise would turn the Russian towards him and Bodie would be alerted to the danger. One bullet. What difference did it make which gun it came from? Dead was dead, but either way, Bodie would be spared. Determined now, he continued to crawl towards the Russian.
Chapter Twenty Two
The extra sense that had kept Bodie alive for so long was screaming a warning. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. He turned quickly and saw the Russian’s gun aimed at him. His luck had finally run out. There was nowhere to take cover. He berated himself. Cowley would be furious. How had he let himself get caught out in the open? How had he messed up so badly? Now Ray would be left on his own, sick and injured.
“I’m sorry, Ray.” His whisper was carried away by the cold wind and lost in the snow.
The Russian smiled at him. There was death in the cold eyes watching him. He heard the shot. Time stood still. He waited for the pain. But there was none. He watched, stunned, as the Russian toppled forward onto the wet pavement. He looked up to see Ray, gun still pointed at where the KGB man had stood, falling to his knees. One bullet. Used to save him. Reality slammed into him and time started moving again. The sound of the shot would alert the others. He had to get Ray back to cover before they were found.
He moved cautiously to the downed Russian. The gun had fallen from his hand and Bodie kicked it out of reach. He rolled the body onto its back; unblinking eyes stared up at him. The man was dead. He expected nothing less. Even on his last legs, Ray was a crack shot. With his partner’s life on the line, there was no way Ray would miss. It was an unbreakable trust. Despite whatever else might be going on in their partnership, they watched each other’s backs.
He bent down to pick up the Russian’s weapon. Ray would need it. He’d used his last bullet. A finger of something, fear...relief...moved down his back. He realised then what his partner had risked for him. Ray had taken a chance that he’d be able to at least wound the KGB man, allowing Bodie to get himself clear. If Ray had missed, Ray himself would have been totally exposed to the Russian’s gun.
He knelt down next to his partner, checking for a pulse. It was there, racing under his fingers. He had to get him to shelter, to a doctor. Tucking both weapons away, he gently picked Ray up and scanned the area for a place to hide. Running footsteps and voices limited his choices. He went quickly back to the pile of crates that had sheltered them earlier.
“The gun shot came from over here. Alexi was searching this area,” the voice had a slight Russian accent.
“They can’t have gone far, not with the shape we left Doyle in.” Bodie recognised Smythe’s voice.
The footsteps continued down the dock and passed their hiding place.
“Shit!” Spoken in unison, British and Russian accents combined. Bodie assumed they had found Alexi.
“Mullins,” Smythe called out loudly. “Over here. They have to be close.”
Bodie watched from his spot behind a large shipping crate as the three men began a thorough search of the area. Beside him he felt Ray stir. He laid a hand on the man’s head.
“Shh, Ray. We’re hidden, but you need to be quiet.” He leaned in and whispered softly. Ray nodded his understanding and slowly sat up. Bodie pulled the dead Russian’s gun from where he’d tucked it into his belt and handed it to Ray. Ray silently checked the clip and looked up at Bodie.
“Giving you a few more chances this time, sunshine.”
His words were greeted with a weak smile. He wasn’t sure that Ray actually understood where he was or what was going on. That narrowed their options for escape.
“We need to make a move. Surprise is our best chance.”
Ray nodded, eyes blank. Bodie took his chin and forced their eyes to meet. “Ray, you with me, mate?”
He watched the painful struggle as Ray fought to focus on him. He felt the fine tremors in the flesh beneath his hand. He wasn’t sure how much more he could expect from Ray. He was surprised when a firm grip took his hand.
“I’m okay, Bodie. What did you have in mind?”
“There are three of them. Odds are in our favour, but this is not a very good hiding place. I want to draw them out and deal with them singly. I thought to pick one and follow him, let him know I’m there and take him down. Have to do it quietly so as not to alert the others.”
“And I’m supposed to sit here while you make yourself a target again? That worked so well the last time.” Ray’s words held anger and it seemed to give him strength.
“I thought...”
“No, you didn’t think. I’m not helpless, Bodie. Ask Alexi! And I’m sure not going to stay here while you run off and play hero.”
They exchanged looks, Bodie chagrined and Ray angry. Bodie’s lips twitched.
“What about backup?” Ray finally broke the silence.
He looked at his watch. “Murphy called Cowley about eight this evening. If there were no problems on the road, the cavalry should be arriving any minute. Problem is they don’t know where we are. Without the R/T...” He stopped himself as he watched Ray’s face redden.
“It’s okay, Ray. It was an accident. We’ll get by.”
He watched as Ray hunched in on himself, putting his hands in his jacket pockets. He watched, puzzled, as the battered face lit up. Ray pulled his left hand out of the jacket pocket and tossed something at Bodie. He fumbled it a bit and then found himself holding a lighter. They smiled at each other, in sync once more.
“The bin over there looks to be full of rubbish. If we light that, it’ll draw all kinds of attention.” Ray finally felt a bit of hope. “If we position ourselves properly, we might be able to take down a couple of villains as well.”
Bodie ruffled his partner’s hair. “A brilliant idea, old son!”
Chapter Twenty Three
They worked their way over to the rubbish bin and sat with their backs to it. Bodie kept watch, turned slightly to see behind them, while he kept watch in front. He pulled the tattered rug from around his shoulders and used the lighter to set flame to the frayed ends. When it had caught fire sufficiently he tossed it up into the bin. Bodie had pulled some paper out of the bin before they sat down. He lit those and tossed them in the bin as well. They stayed long enough to make sure the fire was going to keep burning and then moved further down the dock. They hid amongst a pile of tarps and watched the fire build.
The scene wavered in front of his eyes. He was feeling quite sick to his stomach again. The water that Bodie had been frequently forcing on him stirred restlessly in his gut. His head hurt and he was still fighting dizziness. The short run to get to this shelter had taken the last bit of strength he had. He had to hold on though. Bodie still needed him. There’d be time to give in to his injuries later.
He felt Bodie stiffen beside him.
“There,” Bodie pointed toward the burning rubbish. “I see one of them coming round the bin.” Bodie raised his gun and fired twice. The figure dropped. He grunted in approval.
“Might be ready to challenge you in hand guns next time around, mate.” Bodie’s smug voice sounded far away. He realised he was losing consciousness.
“Bodie...” He reached out for his partner. “I’m sorry... can’t stick around...”
“Don’t you pass out on me, mate. We’re not out of this yet.”
His eyes opened. “I’m not worried, Bodie. You’ll save me... you always do...”
He woke to the sound of sirens, men shouting and someone calling his name, over and over again, almost like a prayer.
“Ray, c’mon. Ray, wake up. Ray, don’t do this to me.” The words intruded on the peace he’d found. He decided the way to make them stop was to obey. He opened his eyes. Bodie’s face, usually so composed and unreadable, was naked with emotion. He watched as fear and regret played across the pale features. He was still calling him. He placed a cold finger on Bodie’s lips and then weakly pulled himself up and pressed his lips to Bodie’s, hard, his eyes never leaving Bodie’s. The words finally stopped. Bodie broke the kiss.
“God, Ray. I thought... I thought I’d lost you.” The voice was shaking.
“What... what happened, Bodie?”
“After Smythe came around the bin and I shot him, you passed out. The other two came running toward us, but shots from the warehouse took them both. Murphy. He brought Cowley and the mob. I couldn’t wake you. I thought...”
“I’m here... not going anywhere without you.”
Bodie gathered him up in a firmer embrace. “Ambulance is on its way.” He heard hesitation in his partner’s voice. “We have to talk, Ray.”
“Not now. Later.”
“Need to tell you now. While I’m sure you’ll listen.” Bodie tightened his arms, firmly holding him in place. “I’m sorry, Ray, that I believed all that about you... so fucking sorry...”
Chapter Twenty Four
Bodie looked down at the man in his arms. He looked so vulnerable, not a word often associated with Raymond Doyle. The large green eyes opened wide. The heat in them took his breath away.
“Sorry... you bloody pillock. What are you sorry for? I’m the one should apologise, what I put you through.” Ray gasped and fell tiredly back into his embrace, murmuring words that denied the need for apologies, words that offered forgiveness without judgement.
They heard the men from the ambulance approach. Ray grabbed Bodie’s jacket in clenched fists and pinned Bodie in his gaze. “Don’t ever let me do this to us again.” The words were quiet and broken. The green eyes slid closed. Bodie gently kissed the bruised lids. He knew that he had found that friend worth dying for.
Epilogue
It was almost dawn, the early morning light slowly beginning to make its appearance. The last stars of the night sky were fading back into hiding to wait there until the sun was once again tucked behind the horizon. Ray shivered as he sat by the water’s edge, the rock he had chosen for his seat leaching the warmth from his body. He marvelled again at how he found himself here, and that Bodie had come with him...
They’d left London as soon as Ray was released from hospital. It was late afternoon when they had arrived at the croft. He was still suffering the after effects of his imprisonment and had had to fight to stay awake. Bodie had laughed at him for turning in before the moon had risen. But the laughter stopped when he pulled Bodie into bed with him and wrapped his partner in his arms. Their loving was tender and gentle, both revelling in the return of the familiar tastes, touches and scents. Relaxed in the warmth of tangled legs and sheets, they had talked late into the night. Bodie finally drifted off, but he hadn’t been able to follow.
He lay still, holding his lover, and cursed his own nature. He could never simply let something go. Bodie had once said he’d blame himself for the invention of gunpowder. So he lay there, reliving the past weeks. He found guilt in his own actions, guilt that led to fear and fear that had bled away when he remembered the expression he woke to on the dock in Blackpool.
It humbled him that Bodie could be so forgiving. No words had been spoken. None were needed. Everything, understanding, forgiveness, acceptance and love, was there in the blue eyes watching him, welcoming him home. He had cried then, and Bodie had held him. In hospital, left on his own, he had time to think. He had beaten himself up over the deceptions he allowed Bodie to believe. Shame flayed him over the pain and confusion he had caused Bodie. And his brooding had finally made Bodie angry.
“Enough, Ray! It’s over, done, forgiven. So bury it in that messy head of yours and move on.” Bodie walked to the door. A quiet plea, “Bodie”, whispered in a broken voice stopped him. Bodie didn’t turn around but said “Get yourself sorted, Ray. I’ll be back in the morning.”
And he had returned, smiling like a child with a secret. “We’re out of here, Raymond.” He gleefully rubbed his hands together. “The Cow has given us leave. I think a trip to a certain Scottish croft is exactly what the doctor ordered.”
...The doctor indeed. He had been released from the hospital into Bodie’s care and now found himself staring blindly at the waves rushing up onto the shore, soaking his trainers.
“Penny for ‘em,” a soft whisper warmed his ear.
He smiled and leaned back into arms that encircled his chest with a contented sigh.
“Ray?”
Without turning around he said, “We almost lost this.”
Bodie dropped a kiss on the back of his neck. “Lost what?”
“This.” Shivering, he turned in Bodie’s embrace and kissed him deeply.
“Oi! Cold lips!” Bodie pulled back, a smile lighting his face.
“Cold lips… warm…” He started running his hand down Bodie’s chest and then further south.
“Raymond!” The mock surprise drew giggles from them both.
“...heart, you dozy bastard. Cold lips, warm heart,” he sniggered. “Don’t know where your mind is, mate.”
“Oh, I think you do…” Bodie turned him again so that Ray’s back was pressed to Bodie’s chest. He rested his chin on Ray’s shoulder. The warmth spread between them. “You won’t lose me, Ray.” All the laughter was gone from Bodie’s voice. “I doubted you, but I was wrong to do that. It won’t happen again.”
“I won’t give you cause… ever again. Cowley be damned.”
They stood silently watching the sky turn from red to orange and finally to blue.
“Do you remember the last time we were here at the croft?” The innocence of the question was belied by the glint of mischief in the heavily lidded green eyes.
“I’ve still got sand in places it doesn’t belong, sunshine. You’re not thinking of…”
“Oh, I am, love.” He turned in Bodie’s arms and pulled the scarf from around Bodie’s neck. “I most definitely am.”