The Professionals Circuit Archive - Images False and True	  Images
False and True

 

by PFL 

 
 *Written for the "Discovered in The Anarchist Cookbook" challenge on the
discoveredinalj livejournal community*


 "Talk to me, you bastard!" 

 Doyle absorbed the blow, no longer struggling against the tape that bound
his hands. Bettis' frustration was tangible. He wouldn't be surprised if
Bettis lost it soon and killed him. Doyle could think about it now from a
distance. He had retreated to the ice at his core.

 "Do you want to end up like her, Doyle?" Bettis grabbed him by his hair
and wrenched his head up. "Do you? Look at her!"

 He didn't have to. He remembered with perfect clarity what Lisa looked
like. They'd allowed her to bleed out. There were worse ways to die.

 "Tell us where you put the drugs. Tell us!" There was a pause and then
Doyle felt the chill of a handgun's barrel pressed to his temple. "It'd be
so easy."

 Bettis was an amateur. He should have killed him within the first half
hour. Staying in the warehouse increased the risk of discovery. There
wasn't time for Bettis to break him. He wondered when Bettis would get
that idea through his thick head. If it took long enough, Bodie might find
them. Doyle reckoned he'd be killed when CI5 arrived, but at least Bettis
and his gang would be stopped. Lisa would have some justice. That thought
brought a smile.

 "You think I'm joking?" Bettis slapped him, and Doyle would have fallen
from the chair if Hartz hadn't grabbed him. He couldn't suppress a gasp as
Hartz shoved him back into the chair. He must have a cracked rib, maybe
worse. The only defence he had was the cold control that kept him from
speaking. It was frighteningly easy to not care. It was familiar.

 "Or maybe I'll shoot your kneecap out." 

 The man had watched too many films. What was the point of that threat? It
made him irritable.

 Donnor spoke up from behind Bettis. "So cut him in on the deal. A small
percent." Doyle glanced at Donnor with something akin to interest. Donnor
was older than the others, and he'd kept his head when they'd realised the
drugs were gone. 

 "Are you insane?" Bettis stood straight, glaring at Doyle, his hand tight
on the gun. 

 "What good does it do us if you kill him before we find the drugs?"
Donnor turned to Doyle. "What about it, eh?"

 Doyle looked at them, alternatives flitting through his mind. "What makes
you think I'm on your side of the law?" He saw the shock that swept
through the three of them and nearly laughed. 

 "You're lying," Bettis said, but there was doubt in his tone.

 "Right. We cut our losses and get out of here." Donnor put a hand on
Bettis' arm.

 "No!"

 "For Chrissake--"

 Bettis leaned in to Doyle. "You're a fucking copper?"

 Doyle met his eyes and hid none of the malice he felt. This time Bettis
hit him with the gun, and no one kept him from falling to the floor.

 "Where're my drugs?" Bettis snarled the words.

 Doyle spat blood. 

 "You bastard. Where--"

 He was interrupted by a shout from outside the office. All three of the
men turned as a fourth man came skidding through the doorway. It was the
punk kid--Gary, Doyle thought his name was.

 Bettis took a step towards the door. "What the fuck's--" 

 "Harry's down." Gary sounded frightened. None of them had guns except for
Bettis. "And Kelly isn't answering."

 Bettis swung back to Doyle. 

 "CI5," Doyle said, and watched as the words struck home. 

 Bettis took a step towards Doyle, his face twisting, but Donnor stopped
him. "Kill him and let's get out of here. Now!"

 "No." Bettis walked over to Doyle and hauled him to his feet. He towed
Doyle to the doorway, jammed the gun into his neck, and shouted out into
the warehouse: "I've got this fucking bastard here! Doyle, the bitch said
his name was. Show yourselves or he buys it. Now!"

 "That's not going to--" Doyle choked as Bettis pressed the gun harder
into his neck.

 "Do you fucking hear me?" Bettis shouted the words.

 "All right." It was Bodie's voice. 

 The warehouse was lit by security lights only--pools of brightness in an
otherwise dark space. Bodie slowly emerged into the light just beyond the
office doorway. He was dressed in black, a gun in one gloved hand. His
face was pale by contrast, and expressionless.

 "Who else is here?" Bettis demanded.

 "Give it up." Bodie's voice was cool. "We're CI5, mate."

 "No sirens," Donnor said. "CI5 work in pairs. Maybe he's Doyle's?"

 Bettis narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, they'd've hit us already if there were
more. Hartz, get his gun." Hartz moved forward and took Bodie's automatic.
"Check out the warehouse." Hartz hesitated only a moment, then disappeared
into the darkness. 

 They all stood still, waiting. Doyle looked at Bodie and knew he'd come
alone. The question was whether he'd called for backup before going in. 

 Hartz's voice carried to them: "All clear, so far. No one out front!"

 Bettis looked at Gary. "Bring him into the office." Donnor went ahead of
them as Bettis dragged Doyle backwards with him. Bodie followed them
through the doorway, with Gary behind him. Gary had a knife in his hand.
Bodie's eyes were fastened on Bettis.

 "One more time, Doyle," Bettis said. "Where are my drugs?"

 "In the river."

 "No one would throw that much money away. No one."

 "I would." Doyle smiled.

 "Me too," Bodie said.

 "Shut up!" Bettis turned the gun towards Bodie, and Doyle shoved his
shoulder into him, hoping to push him off-balance. Bodie was next to Gary.
If Bodie could grab the knife--

 A shot rang out, and Doyle caught a glimpse of Hartz in the doorway, with
Bodie's gun in his hand. Fear stabbed through him, like a hot poker.
Bodie. He cried out as Bettis pounded a fist into his ribs, and then his
kidney. Doyle fell to the floor, a great roaring in his ears, pain lancing
through him. For a moment it was all he could do to breathe.

 He had to get back to the fight, but his fucking hands were still bound
behind his back. He rolled and raised his head. He saw Bodie grappling
with Hartz, landing a vicious blow to the man's neck. Donnor was edging
around to Bodie's unprotected back, but Doyle was more concerned about
Bettis and the gun. Bettis was aiming at the group, waiting for an
opening. Doyle pushed himself towards Bettis, hoping he could trip him,
anything.... Bettis fired--but it was Hartz who fell to the ground, struck
in the back by the bullet as Bodie held him. Bettis yelled and Donnor
jumped Bodie from behind. The roaring was still there--Doyle suddenly
realised it was coming from Bodie. Donnor went down, and Bodie rushed
Bettis even as the man fired again. Bodie never slowed, although Doyle saw
the bullet strike, and within seconds it was over--Bettis dead on the
floor, his neck broken.

 Bodie's eyes swept the room as he turned in a tight circle. Doyle stayed
still, knowing that Bodie wouldn't recognise him at that moment. Berserker
rage. He'd never witnessed it before, but there was no mistaking it. Bodie
was lost to everything except the need to kill. Blood spread from the
wound in Bodie's right shoulder, but Doyle doubted he felt it. Maybe it
was a sign of returning control that he was quiet now, but his expression
was fierce and his stance aggressive. Words floated through Doyle's
brain--Bodie's voice from long ago: *That's the main thing, staying cool*.
No wonder.

 A noise broke the silence, and Doyle saw Gary struggling to get to his
feet, the knife back in his hands. Bodie pounced on him.

 "Bodie!" Doyle jerked himself to his knees, hampered by his bound hands,
and gasped as his ribs protested the movement. 

 Bodie stopped. One of his hands was tight on Gary's arm, the other now
held Gary's knife, and he was poised to strike.

 "Let him go." He could hear sirens in the distance, but the only sound in
the office was Gary's panicked breathing. "It's done." Doyle kept his
voice quiet. After a moment, Bodie released Gary and stepped back. 

 Bodie turned his head and Doyle met his eyes, withstanding the heat of
the rage he saw there. Bodie didn't move, even when Gary scuttled through
the doorway. Gary wouldn't get far, and they had more important things to
deal with here.

 He glanced at the carnage around them, then back at Bodie. The rage was
dissipating, and in its place was...fear? Something twisted tight in
Doyle's gut--a feeling as unexpectedly sharp as his own fear for Bodie had
been. He caught his breath in sudden realisation. An instant later, Bodie
blinked, and the look was gone. His face was expressionless again--the
emotion sealed over. Keep it cool, always cool, and in control. Except
when he wasn't.

 Mercenary. Killer. How many times had he dug at Bodie with those words?
Trying to break through Bodie's control just for the challenge of it? Only
now did he understand the fire he'd played with; what it was that Bodie
hid behind the self-discipline. But then, they all had secrets, didn't
they? 

 After a brief hesitation, Bodie moved to Hartz's body, picked up and
holstered his gun, then walked to Doyle. He slid the knife through the
tape around Doyle's hands and helped him to his feet. Doyle winced as the
blood flowed freely through his arms and hands again.

 "Are you all right?" Bodie's voice was as colourless as his face.

 "No." Bodie's hand tightened on his arm. "But I'll heal. How's your
shoulder?"

 Bodie looked surprised for a moment, then he looked down at the wound. He
released Doyle. "Oh."

 "The hospital for both of us, eh?"

 "It looks like it." Bodie examined his wound. "I'll live."

 "Lisa won't." Doyle gestured to the far corner of the office as Bodie
looked up. "Killed in the line of duty, they'll say." They'd put a
notation on her record before they closed it. He couldn't muster any
outrage over the needlessness of her death. He should be feeling more,
shouldn't he? It was too easy to stay distant.

 "Not your fault."

 And Doyle smiled at the image Bodie had of him. The guilt would come
later. 

 Bodie turned away, and Doyle could almost see the cloak of cool
efficiency he pulled around himself. "The lads must be here--or soon will
be. Cowley will probably be with them." Doyle saw that Bodie's gaze stayed
above floor level as he glanced around. He should follow Bodie's lead, he
knew. Let him rebuild his image. Pretend he'd never witnessed all that
Bodie wanted to hide. Could they so easily slip back to normalcy? Did he
want that?

 "Bodie." He put his hand on Bodie's arm. Bodie swung around, and one of
his hands clamped on Doyle's shoulder. Doyle caught a glimpse of Bodie's
eyes--saw the control slip--and then Bodie's mouth covered his. 

 Shock kept Doyle still for a moment, then he put his hands on Bodie's
back and opened his mouth to Bodie's tongue. Heat seared him, coiling
through his veins and arteries and burning out every reserve he had. He
didn't give a fuck about anything--except to meet Bodie's need, Bodie's
urgency, Bodie's fears. He knew what had broken Bodie's control at last,
and why he'd stopped when Doyle had called to him. Every inch of Doyle
blazed with the light that Bodie sparked in him, and he marvelled at it.

 Too soon, Bodie pulled back, breaking the kiss. "Ray." He seemed dazed,
but his eyes were clear, and his hand gripped Doyle's shoulder hard enough
to bruise.

 They needed time, but-- "The lads will be here any moment. Later, eh?"

 The blank expression that slid across Bodie's face hit Doyle like a punch
to the gut. He nearly smiled in his amazement, but Bodie's need took
precedence. He put his hand on the back of Bodie's neck, bracing him.
"It's all right. You're safe."

 Bodie stared at him, and Doyle saw wariness in his eyes.

 He slid his thumb over Bodie's skin. "I want you. *All* of you." 

 "But..."

 "We all make choices, mate. Every fucking day. To be what we are, or to
make us what we want to be. You and me both." He felt the tension in
Bodie's neck. "I know why you lost it." His hand tightened as Bodie tried
to pull away. "Listen to me! I know. And it's okay. You're not alone." He
hesitated a moment. "If you want me." 

 "You bloody well know I do." Bodie's voice was a fierce whisper. 

 Doyle took in a breath. They had to be equal in this. "You're the only
one who can hurt me, Bodie. The only fucking one. Do you understand?"

 Bodie's eyes flickered, and then his hand came up and he put his fingers
on Doyle's cheek. "Are you sure about this?"

 Doyle let out a quick laugh. "Yeah." But his smile faded as he looked at
Bodie. Doyle wasn't the only one who could be hurt. "I'm not what you
think--"

 Bodie kissed him. A quick but firm kiss. "You are. You just don't know
it."

 "Bodie--"

 "You choose it, sunshine. Just like me. Every day." Doyle stared at him. 

 Bodie pushed him gently but inexorably towards the door. "Come on, that's
the lads out there." And, indeed, it was apparent that CI5 had finally
arrived. 

 Doyle narrowed his eyes. "We shall have a talk later."

 "Is that what you think?" They went through the doorway and into the
warehouse, moving slowly.

 "That's what I know."

 "Ah, but it's a day for surprises, isn't it?"

 He sounded happy. Doyle stopped and glared at him.

 Bodie grinned. "First we'll report to Cowley, then we'll go to hospital,
then we'll go home, then we'll go to bed. *Then* we'll talk, eh?"

 "Optimist. You've got a bullet wound and I've got a cracked rib."

 "We'll improvise." 

 There was, perhaps, a proper time and place to try to break through
Bodie's cool image. Bed, for one. He slanted a smile at Bodie, thinking of
the possibilities. "Maybe."

 He hadn't reckoned on Bodie returning the favour. 

 -- THE END --

 *October 2007*

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