"Bodie!"

The cry rang out just as she reached her car, so harsh and urgent and despairing a cry that it stopped her in midstride. That was when she heard the gunfire. Whirling around she saw a stocky, dark-haired young man behind her, dressed in anorak and brown cords, fall in a sudden, rag doll heap about five yards away in the aisle between two rows of parked cars.

Another man, presumably the one who'd called out, appeared from nowhere, bounding out of the shadows, vaulting over the bonnets of several parked cars in his haste to reach the man who'd been shot. He was slighter and smaller than the other, curly haired, wearing a fawn jacket and jeans.

A moment later there was a screech of tyres behind her. She spun around, terrified. A car, hidden 'til then in the shadows, suddenly roared to life, squealing past her at breakneck speed, disappearing up the ramp of the underground car park and out into the sunlight, and presumably, freedom, for there was no doubt in her mind the shots must have come from the car.

No more than five seconds had passed since she heard the curly-haired man call out the other's name, and he had reached 'Bodie' by this time, oblivious to the escaping car, paying no heed to it.

His friend was sprawled on his back, eyes closed, but still conscious, for his face was a contorted mask of pain, and he was moaning softly. His anorak was open and she could see a huge, ugly, red stain spreading across his chest through the cream coloured roll-neck sweater he was wearing.

God, so much blood...

Shocked and trembling, never having come close to witnessing this kind of violence before, she was unable to move, and stayed half-hidden in the shadows, leaning heavily against her car. She knew she was shaking uncontrollably and couldn't seem to stop, but at first sight of the blood, welling and welling, until it seemed impossible there could be so much, her stomach had heaved in revolt, forcing her to swallow hard against the bitter bile that suddenly rose in her throat.

She wiped a shaking hand across her forehead, trying to stay in control, and stop herself from screaming. Neither of the two men in front of her even seemed to know she was there, but she retained enough awareness to realise she should do something...get help of some kind. Confused, she wasn't sure exactly what that help should be, and knew she couldn't be thinking straight, but finding a phone and calling an ambulance was undoubtedly the first priority. But still she stayed where she was, unable to move, unable to drag horrified eyes from the two men on the ground.

Dark as it was she could see the wounded man quite clearly. He was young, probably no more than 30, with a finely-chiselled, handsome face. He was so pale, though...now...his skin chalk-white, drained of colour...

A powerfully built man, too, from the look of him, though it was hard to be sure when he was sprawled so helplessly on the ground.

His friend had sunk to his knees by his side, dropping the gun he'd been holding, letting it fall to the floor with a hollow clatter. He lifted the wounded man's head with great gentleness, cupping it tenderly, the hand which, seconds ago, had been gripping the gun now, incongruously, cradling the dark head instead, and settling it carefully in his lap.

It seemed an eternity since she'd heard those obscene gunshots, but she knew it could only have been seconds...

"...stupid bloody nitwit..." the leather-jacketed man said suddenly, angrily, his voice breaking with emotion, "why'd you have to go and do something like that, Bodie? Why'd you risk it?", one small, slim-fingered, shaking hand brushing over the alabaster cheek of his friend.

Dark, unfocussed, pain-filled eyes flickered open, closed, opened again. "Bastards got away..." a painful, gasping accusation, with an accompanying attempt to lift a leaden hand in his friend's direction.

"Don't think about it...lie still..." the other demanded, sounding almost irritable, "...lie still, will you, for Christ's sake..." even more irritably, as the injured man tried to move again, "everythin's fine...just lie still..."

He was fishing clumsily in his inside jacket pocket at the same time, taking out a radio transmitter and speaking into it.

"4.5...I've got a priority A2, here..." and when there was no immediate response from the machine in his hand, "...come on, fuck you...come on..." with a vicious, angry shake of it, his voice breaking again, "4.5...this is an emergency...so where the fuck is everyone?"

His companion moaned again. "Hang on, Bodie, just hang on...won't be long now..." with a quick look down at him, brushing damp short tendrils of hair away from his face.

She held her breath, waiting as desperately as they were for an answer. At last there seemed there was a response from the transmitter.

"Yeah...3.7's been hit..." the curly haired man said, "bad...s'bad..." the words coming out in jerky, disjointed, breathless sobs, "...car park...car park...Christ, where the hell are we?" with a dispairing glance around the deserted car park and a shaking sweep of his hand through his hair as he forced himself to stay in control, "...the underground...Fitzgerald Street...yeah, that's the one...off the High Street. Get Cowley onto it...they got away in a maroon Cortina. Didn't get the registration..."

Having said that, he dropped the radio by the discarded gun, for the wounded man had suddenly moved again, drawing in his breath, his whole body tensing, going rigid.

"All right...s'all right..." the other said softly, "it's gonna be OK. Hold onto me, Bodie, and everythin'll be OK..." grabbing hold of his hand in a fierce, possessive grasp, "Christ, mate, don't leave me...not now...won't be able to stand it..."

Although he was supporting Bodie from behind, cushioning his head in his lap, he managed to lean forward, arms circling the other's shoulders, holding him tight, rocking him in his arms, heedless of the other man's blood staining the sleeves of his leather jacket.

He shouldn't do that, she thought confusedly...shouldn't move him at all...might be making his injuries worse...

"Warm now..." she heard Bodie whisper, "...warm and safe...God, Ray..." his voice was a breathy whisper and slurred as if he were drunk.

Ray...so that was his name. It suited him...

He was young, too, perhaps even younger than Bodie, his mop of unruly auburn curls framing an impish, expressive face.

Bodie had opened his eyes again and was looking up at Ray. Incongruously there was even a little smile playing on his ashen lips as he carried on looking at him so concentratedly, taking shuddering, painful gulps of air.

"OK with you here..." he whispered, "don't mind...long as you're here..."

"Always be here..." Ray said, tightening his arms around him. "Christ, where's that bloody ambulance," viciously, looking around frantically in the darkness.

He suddenly let go of Bodie and pulled his jacket off roughly, almost tearing at it in his clumsiness, and covered the upper part of his friend's body with it, his arms encircling him again as soon as he'd done so.

The dark eyes, large with pain, were still rooted on his face. They were extraordinarily beautiful eyes, and Bodie was looking at Ray so...lovingly...in a strangely peaceful and trusting way, too. It was possibly the most loving look she had ever seen one person give to another. Crazy idea...such an obviously masculine man looking at another man, even a close friend, in that way, even in these circumstances, but loving was the only word she could find to describe it.

It was then that it dawned on her fully that she might well be watching a man die, and the realisation started slow, bitter tears coursing down her cheeks.

Yet it wasn't only that she was crying for, horrible as it was, for it was obvious these men were used to violence, perhaps even living in fear that exactly this kind of fate awaited them...one day. And it wasn't simply the obscenity of seeing a young man struck down in such a cruel way that upset her so much either, for she had no doubt it was the kind of death Bodie would have expected. But it was all the more devastating when the depth of caring she instinctively sensed between them was so strong...so strong she found herself completely caught up in the intensity of their caring, too...totally involved in their fate.

"Don't try to talk," Ray whispered reassuringly, "ambulance'll be here before you know it," sounding almost calm at once, as if he were forcing himself to accept a dreadful, if inevitable truth, for Bodie's face was even more ashy pale now, and his breathing was becoming more laboured by the second.

"Don't wanna close my eyes," Bodie whispered back, forcing out each syllable, "might pass out...can't...gotta keep lookin' at you..."

"Ssssh..." Ray said very softly, "told you. I'm not goin' anywhere...stayin' right here with you, sunshine. We go everywhere together, remember? This is no different..."

"Christ...oh, Christ...can't be..." Bodie gasped disbelievingly, trying to move again, as if fighting an unavoidable truth he had only just realised himself, "don't...don't let it happen, Ray...can't lose you..."

"You won't," Ray said very softly. "Promise...always together...always...you'll see..." wiping clumsily at his eyes with the back of his hand.

Blinded by her own tears, shaking her head in frustration, mute rejection of what she was witnessing, she at last heard the shrill ring of an ambulance bell. Seconds later, the ambulance came screaming down the ramp into the car park, screeching to a halt only inches from her, followed by a veritable fleet of cars, most of them police cars, sirens blasting.

How long had it been? Two minutes? Three? No more than four certainly, but she could no longer judge, the shock having made her lose all sense of time.

The noise and confusion goaded her into action at last and she came forward from the shadows, sobbing helplessly.

An anxious-looking, middle-aged, sandy-haired man came running from the first car to pull up behind the ambulance, racing over to the two sprawled in each other's arms on the floor, gently pulling Ray to his feet, away from his friend, so the ambulance men who were behind him could get Bodie on a stretcher, not seeming to mind when Ray tried to fight him off so he could get back to Bodie.

"I promised I wouldn't leave him..." she heard Ray say angrily, despairingly, before the sandy-haired man succeeded in getting him away. He was speaking softly to Ray all the time, as he walked away from the ambulance, but he spoke so quietly she couldn't hear what he was saying. Ray's head was bowed and he had his back to her, but he kept shaking it over and over again, as if he was refusing to accept what the older man was saying to him...

Then her attention was distracted from them, for there was suddenly a policeman standing in front of her, a uniformed one this time...young, fair, earnest. She knew she was still crying and felt him put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Did you see anything, love?" he asked. "Did you see who did it?"

She shook her head frustratedly. "No, nothing. I didn't see who it was. Only saw them drive off."

It was a warm day, but she was suddenly so very very cold, could feel herself shaking with the chills that were coursing through her body.

Then the sandy-haired man was there by her side, too. She blinked up at him, looking past him to find Ray and Bodie again, but they were gone, a screaming siren deafening her as the ambulance drove off and disappeared up the ramp out of the car park.

"Who's this?" a voice said curtly, close by. It was a Scots voice and she assumed that it belonged to the man who'd been comforting Ray.

"Possible witness, Sir. Found her over there by herself, crying her eyes out." The young, earnest policeman, doing his job, sounding efficient and respectful.

"Good," the other said, sparing her a quick glance from troubled, worried eyes. "Statement, lad..and information...any lead, do you hear? I want whoever did this."

He was already striding away again, only turning back for a final parting, "I'll be at the hospital for the time being..."

"Please," she said as she saw him start to leave, aware that he might be her last link with Bodie and Ray. "Please..."

"Yes, what is it?" turning back. He sounded irritable, tired, as if he couldn't be bothered with her.

"Bodie, the man who was injured. Will he be all right?"

He frowned, glanced quickly at the policeman, his answer when it came, brusque and precise, seemingly devoid of sympathy.

"He was still alive...barely...when the ambulance left..."

"He is called Bodie?"

"Yes," impatiently.

"And the other one? His friend?"

"Doyle. Ray Doyle," he said, his voice seeming to soften a little as he at last took in the extent of her distress. "My men, both of them," he added unnecessarily, "good men. A good team..."

A team...working together...yes, of course. That explained everything--the closeness...the affinity she'd sensed between them...

"Thank you," she said, but he'd already forgotten about her and was on his way back to his car.

She could feel the warmth of the policeman's arm around her shoulder as he led her over to another car and was grateful for it because she was still so terribly cold. The incessant chatter of the police radios was grating on her nerves and she felt herself start to shake even more uncontrollably. It suddenly seemed tremendously important that she explain to the policeman why she'd been in the car park in the first place.

"I was collecting my car..." she began as he eased her gently onto the back seat of the car. "I left work early, today...and I always park here. It's handy...convenient...only came to collect my car..."

"Yes, that's all right, love," he said kindly enough. "Don't worry about that now. You'll be fine," his words cruelly echoing what Ray had said when he'd been comforting Bodie. "We'll get you down to the hospital, get them to give you something for the shock and a nice cup of tea and you'll be right as rain again...Don't worry about a thing..."

I'm not worried about myself, she wanted to scream at him. Don't you see, I'm worried about them. I can't bear the thought of not knowing what happens to them, knowing I'll never see them again. Never even know if Bodie survives...

Her anxiety only increased on the way to the hospital, for Ray's words kept coming back to her, going round and round in her brain...

...promise...always together...promise...you'll see...

Had Ray merely been trying to comfort Bodie or was it that really possible they were so close he wouldn't consider carrying on without him? It was an unbearable, unthinkable thought, and yet she couldn't block it from her mind, even though she still wasn't sure why the fate of those two strangers should mean quite so much to her...

It seemed she had an ally, though, someone who, for all his brusqueness at the time, seemed to comprehend she needed to know, for, days later, long after she had been released from the hospital and questioned by the police, and was painfully trying to pick up the pieces of her life again, she received a short, abrupt note from someone who signed himself 'George Cowley'...presumably the man she'd spoken to in the car park.

He thanked her for her concern over his men and the assistance she'd given the police and ended by telling her he hoped he could put her mind at rest by letting her know Bodie had come off the danger list that morning and was expected to make a complete recovery...

She never saw any of them again, but she didn't need to. All she'd needed to know was that Bodie and Doyle had survived and were still together, as they were meant to be...

-- THE END --

Priority A3--CI5 code for an operative wounded/injured whilst off-duty (as in "Discovered in a Graveyard")
Priority A2--possible CI5 code for an operative wounded/injured on-duty.