Peaceful English Countryside

by


Dawn was slowly creeping over the horizon as Bodie stifled a yawn and forced his attention back onto the tarmac whizzing by beneath the wheels of his car. 5:47 in the morning, he’d been up all night chasing one of Cowley’s famous ‘itches’, and all he could think about was the coming day – a treasured day off, when he would sleep until midday then maybe meet up with Doyle in the evening and hit the town. After all, he had to have a good story to take back to the rest of the Squad the following day, didn’t he? And usually, his stories were ignored as pure fiction unless his partner was there to provide an eye-witness account.

Giving in to the urge and yawning again, Bodie grinned at the lecture on stamina he would have received from Cowley had the old man been in the car. Thankfully they’d had two cars to ferry back to headquarters, and Cowley had opted to stay in his red Ford Granada, chauffeur-driven, of course. Bodie had managed to volunteer Doyle for the job. Ray had protested, but Bodie had just cheerfully pointed out that he wouldn’t dream of entrusting his partner with a car signed out under Bodie’s own name. That earned him a sarcastic comment from his boss, but had the desired effect as Bodie now found himself alone in the car, following his partner through almost deserted streets, mercifully Cow-less.

It wouldn’t be long till they arrived back at HQ, an hour perhaps, though Doyle seemed to be taking the pretty route, all curves and narrow country lanes that kept the speed down to a leisurely 35, perhaps a sign of Doyle's own fatigue.



Checking his rear-view mirror to make sure Bodie was still keeping up, Doyle sped up slightly, putting a little distance between the two cars. As the gap widened he grinned, deciding that the manoeuvre was just to make sure his partner was still awake since Bodie seemed so obviously concerned about his driving.

Next to him in the passenger seat Cowley was strangely quiet, musing over the latest puzzle to present itself to the Head of CI5. As usual, the man had chosen not to reveal exactly what was going on, so Doyle had made no attempt to add his opinion to the pot, but he had no doubt that Cowley would figure it out when the time came. For now Doyle was content just to drive in silence, mentally going through the list of things he had to do while off duty. As usual, Bodie would try to drag him out to the pub, and, as usual, Doyle would protest slightly before agreeing with just the right hint of reluctance. That way he could feel virtuous and go on to make a suitably derogatory comment about Bodie’s inability to get a date unless Doyle himself went along to look good and create interest.

The gentle bickering was as much an accepted part of their friendship as Bodie's insistence on ruffling his curls at every opportunity, and the ridiculous number of nicknames he seemed to have for his partner. 'Raffles', 'sunshine' and 'golly' he lived with – actually quite liked although he’d never admit it to Bodie, but he had made it quite clear that one more 'Goldilocks' and he would cheerfully throttle his by then ex-partner. The fact that Cowley had been present when Doyle made the threat and had said nothing led Doyle to believe that he had his boss’ backing should it ever come to that.

The sniper partially hidden in the undergrowth as Doyle entered an intricate series of sharp turns took both Doyle and Cowley by surprise. The bullet that shattered the windscreen barely missed Cowley’s head, embedding itself instead in the doorframe by his left ear.

Doyle slammed the car into a tight circle to put as much distance between Cowley and the sniper as possible. Screaming at his boss to get down, he fought to keep the car under control without falling down the sharp drop to the left hand side of the road. He didn’t dare take one hand off the wheel to reach for his gun, so instead he slammed his foot down on the accelerator, planning on outrunning the sniper instead. On foot the man couldn’t possibly keep up with a speeding car, and if he did have a motor Doyle was quite happy to trade gunfire with the man – in a more defensible position, and one that he would choose.

The sniper’s aim with the next two bullets was perfect, and only what he was shooting at had changed. The first bullet took out the front tyre and the car went into a spin, but Doyle could still have regained control – if he hadn’t been the sniper’s second target.

The bullet shattered the side window by Doyle’s head. Ducking, Cowley expected to hear more glass falling as it kept moving, but instead Doyle slumped against the steering wheel with a cry. Without a driver the car went out of control. As Cowley grabbed for the wheel the Granada veered sharply across the road, turned over into the ditch and rolled again, finally coming to a stop lying on it’s side, one wheel turning slowly as the engine died.



Even as Bodie came round the bend in the road the sniper was already firing. Slamming on the brakes and searching for a sign of the sniper’s position, he was unprepared for what was about to happen. Both Bodie and the sniper watched, one in glee and one in horror as the car rolled off the side of the road and crashed in an appalling scream of tyres and searing metal.

For a second Bodie sat frozen, unable to take his gaze off the spot in the road where Doyle’s car had disappeared. A boiling rage threatened, and Bodie hurled himself out of the passenger side door of his own car. Well shielded and with a clear view of the bush that the sniper was settled in, it was a short exchange of gunfire before the sniper himself was hit. Abandoning his own cover, Bodie checked that the man was dead and picked up the treacherous rifle, hurling it out of the sniper's reach just in case.

In the back of his mind Bodie had been expecting to hear voices behind him as Doyle and Cowley emerged unscathed from the crash. Instead an absurd silence settled over the scene and birds began to sing in the dawn as if nothing had happened. Forgetting all about the dead sniper, Bodie sprinted back across the road towards the crash site.

The ditch was a good fifteen feet lower than the road itself, and Bodie couldn’t even see the car until he reached the edge and began scrambling down the muddy slope. Before he reached the ground the passenger door was forced open, and Cowley pulled himself out of the car, falling dazed to the ground by the side of the wreckage.

"Doyle?"

As Bodie ran to his boss’ aid he called out his partner’s name, slightly surprised to hear the catch in his voice as he waited in vain to hear Ray’s voice in return, but there was nothing. Bodie reached Cowley as he began to sit up, holding one hand to a gash above his left eye. Bodie tried to make Cowley lie back down, but Cowley just shook off his agent’s hand and gestured shakily to the car.

"Help…him."

Without hesitation Bodie ran over to the car. Lying on it’s side with the caved-in roof firmly embedded into the edge of the ditch, the driver’s side of the Granada was a mangled wreck, barely recognisable for what it once was. Crawling down into the small gap between the ditch and the bonnet, Bodie started frantically pulling mud and what was left of the windscreen out of the way until he could get to his partner. Finally clearing enough of the glass away to see inside, his heart sank as he caught sight of Doyle.

The dashboard and steering column had collapsed in on impact along with half of the engine, and Doyle was firmly trapped in the driver’s seat. Bodie could see that he would have to be cut from the car. Slumped in a heap against the door, blood from a deep gash across his temple mixing with smaller cuts and bruises, Doyle was unresponsive when Bodie called his name. Thanks to the sharp metal and plastic which had formed a grotesque sculpture around his partner’s body, Bodie could only see Doyle from the chest up, and had no hint of the extent of his injuries.

Pulling his R/T out of his pocket, Bodie began trying to crawl further into the car so that he could reach his partner while radioing for help.

"3.7 to base."

At first there was only static, then a faint reply.

"Come in 3.7."

"Priority 2A. We need an ambulance at Adelaide Corner in Kingswood, Surrey. You’d better send a fire brigade as well, we’re going to need cutting tools."

Bodie could hear the girl on the other end of the R/T putting out the ambulance call and waited until she came back on line. ‘2A’ referred to an agent injured on duty, only to be used in dire circumstances and he knew that an ambulance would be despatched quickly.

"The ambulance is on its way, Bodie. What happened?"

"A car crash. Alpha One and 4.5."

"Status? Are they badly hurt?" As the woman back at headquarters spoke again, Bodie finally managed to worm his way in close enough to check on Doyle’s pulse. Faint and unsteady, the uneven beat of Doyle’s heart sent a shiver of dread down Bodie’s spine.

Bodie flicked the button down on his R/T to respond, not taking his eyes of his partner. "Cowley's fine."

"And Doyle?"

Bodie had to pause to clear the catch in his throat before answering. "They’d better be quick, Ruth."

Shutting off his R/T, Bodie turned as Cowley made his way slowly towards him.

"You alright?" he asked.

Cowley nodded slowly as he sat down on the ground, leaning against the bonnet of the car for support. "How is he?"

"Bad. I’ve called for an ambulance. What happened?"

Cowley sighed and gestured to the gash across Doyle's temple. "He caught one of the sniper's bullets. Damned lucky it's no more than a graze, but…" Cowley trailed off, the rest of the sentence didn't need saying.

Bodie felt a strange mixture of anger at the dead sniper and relief that the bullet wound wasn't as serious as it could have been. Nevertheless, the head wound could be a problem as Doyle was still losing blood, and there was no way of telling the extent of his other injuries.

"The sniper?"

"Dead."

Cowley nodded, expecting nothing less from the dark haired man in front of him. Bodie was capable of great bouts of emotion, carefully hidden perhaps, but there all the same. It came as no surprise to him that the man who was now so openly afraid for his partner would have killed the man who had hurt him.

Now that he’d established that he couldn’t get Doyle out of the car himself without risking further injury, Bodie found himself at a loss at what to do. It was only now that Bodie found himself registering just what was happening, just how bad this was.

Balanced on the very edge of the bonnet, as close to Doyle as he could get, Bodie took his partner's hand almost without realising, needing to feel that he was still alive, but he was shocked at how cold Doyle’s skin was, how pale. The long fingers lying in his moved slightly, he thought, and he leant forward as a sense of hope formed.

"Doyle? Come on, Ray, wake up." Long eyelashes fluttered open, green eyes locked with blue, and Bodie sensed rather than saw Doyle try to move. Even before he could warn him to stay still, a shudder of pain coursed through Doyle’s body and the eyes closed again.

Bodie had seen most things in his career, first as a mercenary, then in the army and CI5, but he’d always prided himself on just how well he coped with things. He’d seen people die, stayed with them while they did, and although he always felt sad, sometimes angry, never before had he experienced this awful sense of pending loss, the strong grief building up at the thought of losing his partner like this. In their job both Bodie and Doyle faced death every day, relied on each other to stay alive, and the fact that Bodie was being forced to just sit, unable to do anything while his partner slipped away from him caused his usual icy calm to start to crack.

"Damn." he whispered.



His head finally clear from hitting the windscreen, Cowley saw how much this was affecting Bodie, and sympathy for him warred with his own concern for Ray Doyle. Cowley watched all of the men in his squad, observed the partnerships very carefully, and was well aware of just how close Bodie and Doyle were, how much they relied on each other. He had witnessed first hand the anger that each agent showed whenever the other man was in danger, and even though they would never admit it to anyone else, Cowley knew how difficult this would be for him. He leant forward and placed a hand on Bodie’s shoulder.

"If he wakes up again, try to keep him talking, keep him interested. I’ll go and wait for the ambulance so they know where we are."

Bodie saw the concern in his boss’ eyes and nodded as Cowley stood up and walked away from the wreckage. Despite being in the same car as his partner, Bodie could see from the car itself that the driver’s side had taken the brunt of the crash, and since Cowley was walking and talking lucidly, Bodie’s initial worry about him had been completely erased.

Settling down by his partner, Bodie watched as the dawn finally passed and night became day, but still Doyle didn’t wake. He had a pretty good idea why Cowley had gone back up to the road and was grateful. However much he concealed it, Cowley cared more about his agents than he let on, and Bodie was grateful that the man had given him time on his own with his partner.

Doyle had been in trouble before - they both had, it went with the job. As he waited for the ambulance, Bodie found himself recalling the Van Niekirk case. From the moment he and Cowley had discovered that Van Niekirk had escaped Bodie had been frantic with worry, as had Cowley, and it was their concern for him that had prompted the argument in the cells and the dash to the hotel. The woman’s body in the bathtub was a nasty touch, especially as, hidden under a sheet her curly hair looked exactly like Doyle’s. The euphoric sense of relief Bodie felt when Doyle had finally called in had taken even him by surprise, and he had chosen not to think about what it meant. Bodie lived his whole life holding people at arms length, keeping them at a distance so that they couldn’t hurt him. Yet this man had managed slowly, over the course of years, to become his closest friend, someone who had subtly wormed his way under Bodie’s defences without him even noticing.

Even with the daylight, the darkness in the car cast shadows over his partner’s face, making it seem even more lifeless than it already was. Sitting here, unable to do anything but wait he couldn’t imagine a life without Doyle. As the blood from his head wound trickled down the side of Doyle's face and into his eye, Bodie gently wiped it away and offered up a silent prayer to a God he no longer believed in. Anything, if he thought it would help.

A low moan from nearby and Bodie leant forward, almost afraid to hope.

"Ray?"

A slurred voice barely reached his ears. "Bodie?"

Bodie let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. "I’m right here, sunshine. Don’t try to move. The paramedics are on their way."

"Wha…?"

He frowned at the confused look as Doyle’s eyes finally opened. "The crash. Don’t you remember?"

For a moment Doyle stared at nothing, his eyes unfocused. Then he started, glancing up at Bodie with fear in his eyes. "Cowley?"

"He’s fine. You took the force of the crash. He’s waiting to show the ambulance where…" Bodie broke off as Doyle winced in pain and groaned, moving one hand somewhere out of sight. "What is it?"

"Jesus, Bodie. It hurts." Doyle’s hoarse voice became little more than a whisper, and his eyes started closing again. Bodie grabbed hold of Ray’s arm, trying not to panic.

"No! Ray, stay with me. Come on."

Through sheer force of will Doyle stayed conscious, and Bodie slightly eased his grip on Doyle’s arm.

"Where does it hurt, Ray?"

A weak version of Doyle’s laugh erupted from his mouth, turning quickly into a cough. "My head, and there’s something…I dunno…my side…but I can’t tell…"

"Ambulance will be here soon, Goldilocks. We’ll have you sorted."

Doyle leaned his head back gently against the headrest, waves of nausea threatening. "Told you…not to call me…that."

Bodie grinned back, a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. "My chance to take advantage. You can't hit back."

"That’s it…kick a man when…he’s down." His voice a little stronger now, he managed a weak grin to try and make Bodie relax, aware, even dazed, that Bodie was desperately worried. "…proves one thing."

"What’s that?"

"…right…about my driving."

Before Bodie could reply he heard the sound of sirens in the distance.

"Finally," he muttered.

"Hmm?" Doyle had closed his eyes again, fighting a bout of dizziness.

"The ambulance is here."

"Mmmm."

"Doyle?"

" ’m tired…"

Bodie grabbed Doyle’s hand and squeezed it, trying to keep him alert. "It’s almost over, sunshine. Just hang on."

Doyle muttered something Bodie couldn’t hear, but before he could find out what it was a mass of people descended on the car, and Bodie was pulled away from his partner’s side. At first he protested, but Cowley kept him away from the wreckage, pointing out reasonably that the paramedics needed room to work.

It seemed an eternity to Bodie before the paramedics were able to free Doyle from the wreckage. Waiting impatiently while they fitted a neck brace and lifted him from the car, as soon as Doyle was led on a stretcher Bodie started forward. Ignoring Cowley's protests he quickly crossed the open ground and knelt down beside his partner.

"Ray?"

Doyle's gaze met Bodie's, although the neck brace stopped him from turning his head. His dazed greeting quickly turned into a moan as the paramedics sliced open his shirt, which was badly stained with blood. The open shirt revealed a long, jagged cut under his ribs which snaked out of sight around his side. The cut seemed to have closed, but moving him out of the car had opened it up again, and blood now flowed freely from his body.

Seeing the concern deepen in his partner's eyes, Doyle tried to move, to see what had hurt so much, but movement just made the pain worse, and he struggled to keep from crying out again. Before he could protest the paramedics had his arms and legs strapped to the stretcher to stop him moving again, and Doyle was forced to lie still.

"How…bad?"

The trust in their friendship had not been built on platitudes or well-meant lies, and Bodie knew that Doyle would not accept them from him even now. As the stretcher was lifted and carefully carried towards the ambulance Bodie followed at his side, climbing into the vehicle without invitation.

"I've seen worse, but it's not good, Ray."

The hand that had been held in Bodie's since being freed from the car went slack, and Doyle's eyes rolled back in his head before closing completely.

A brief moment of panic settled in, then the medic was thrusting a pad into his hands.

"Hold this over his side, and press hard."

Bodie did as instructed, hesitating slightly as the pressure brought forth a moan from his unconscious friend. The medic reacted by pressing Bodie's hand harder against the wound.

"I know it hurts him, but we've got to stop the bleeding."

Bodie nodded mutely as the medic checked Doyle's pupils and placed an oxygen mask over his face to help him breathe. Shouting to the driver to go faster, the man began setting up an IV drip, and as Bodie suddenly felt the tears trickling silently down his face, part of him envied the paramedic's clinical detachment from the drama unfolding around him.

The rest of the journey passed in a blur, and Bodie sat still, staring almost blindly as Ray's blood seeped through the pad and onto his fingers. Doyle was rushed through to Casualty the instant the ambulance arrived, and Bodie was left behind to just wait. When Cowley arrived shortly afterwards he found Bodie pacing up and down the waiting room. The man gave no reaction to Cowley's arrival, continuing to pace until exhaustion drove him to a chair.

It was almost two hours before a doctor came out to tell them anything, and Bodie spent the time sat staring at the floor, his only movement a fine trembling in his fingers as he rested his head on his hands. When the doctor finally came out both Bodie and Cowley were on their feet, matching expressions of concern on their faces.

Cowley spoke for the both of them, Bodie not yet trusting his voice.

"How is he?"

"Surprisingly well, considering his ordeal. Most of his injuries were minor cuts and bruises, and thankfully the head and side wounds missed everything vital. Even so, he lost an awful lot of blood and has all the symptoms of concussion, so we want to keep him in for a few days under observation. The best way for him to recover now is just to get some rest."

At this Bodie spoke up. "Can I see him?"

The doctor's initial inkling was to say no, but as he took in the open fear in the man's face and the blood on his hands, he paused.

"Are you family?"

"No."

At this Cowley intervened. "He's Doyle's partner. They're in CI5."

A short pause and the doctor agreed. "But only for a few moments, and don't wake him if he's asleep."

Bodie nodded, and a nurse directed him to Ray's room. Pausing at the door, he hesitated slightly before entering and sat down in the chair by his bedside. Completely still, Doyle seemed to be sleeping, and Bodie drank in the sight of his partner in relief. Both his head and side were stitched and bandaged, but in the daylight Bodie could see the bruises over his arms and chest and the too pale face, which though it had more colour in it than he remembered, was still ghostly white.

Reacting on impulse, Bodie lightly brushed an errant curl back from Doyle's face and he stirred, turning his head towards his partner. For a moment they watched each other, then Doyle slowly ran his fingers across Bodie's cheek, wiping away the tears. His other hand clumsily pushed the oxygen mask away from his face, breathing hard from even that small exertion.

"Dumb crud…" he whispered fondly.

Bodie smiled back, his first genuine smile that morning.

"I'm alright, Bodie."

"I know, Goldilocks. I know."

Ray returned the smile with a sparkle in his eyes, thinking vaguely that maybe he didn't really mind that name.

Bodie moved to replace the mask, but Doyle blocked him, his smile vanishing for a moment.

"Thanks, Bodie." He muttered.

Nothing more needed saying, and suddenly tired, he allowed Bodie to cover his mouth with the mask, and his partner gently ruffled his hair before standing.

"Get some rest, sunshine. I'll be back."

Ray nodded, and Bodie stood by his side until the man's breathing evened out and he slept. Slipping quietly out of the room and walking down the corridor to where Cowley waited, Bodie felt light-headed with relief and gave the Scot a beaming smile.

"Come on, 3.7. I'll drive you home. You can pick up your car from HQ later."

The two men left the hospital, and it wasn't long before Cowley was pulling in outside Bodie's flat and turning to face Bodie.

"Two days off, Bodie, as of now."

Grinning, Bodie climbed out of the car, but Cowley leant out of the window before driving off. "Oh, and 3.7?"

Bodie turned a questioning gaze on his boss.

"Visiting hours start at 2."

Cowley pulled away into the steady flow of traffic and as a smiling Bodie reached for his keys, the sun came out from behind the clouds for the first time since the dawn.

-- THE END --

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