SquidgeWorld Archive

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author.  The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise.  No copyright infringement is intended.

Thanks to my very patient Beta Lyn

The Kidnapping

   The shrill ringing of the telephone broke the early morning silence in Bodie’s flat. Doyle turned over and cursed as he narrowly missed falling off the couch. He sat up and a slight feeling of nausea crept up his throat.

    Bodie padded into the room wearing nothing but navy boxer shorts. “Father has requested our presence immediately if not sooner.” He grinned at Doyle.

    “Bugger! My mouth feels like a flock of seagulls nested in it,” Doyle groaned as he slid his feet to the floor.

    “Now, Raymond, if you will drink to excess, what can you expect?” Bodie asked in a condescending tone.

   “I can expect a day off. Cowley promised us two days off if I’m right.”

   “He did indeed, Doyle, but it seems the needs of our great nation outweigh your hangover.”

   “What has got you so cheerful?” Doyle asked suspiciously.

    “I took it easy on the booze; one of us had to be able to tell the cabbie where to drop us.”

    “Have we time for coffee?”

    “No, you have two minutes to use the bog and brush your teeth and while I’m brushing mine you can see what clean clothes are in the bottom drawer from the last time you spent the night.”

    Ten minutes later they left the flat. Bodie drove while Doyle used his battery razor to shave. Twenty minutes they arrived at C.I.5 headquarters.

    Betty’s desk was empty so Bodie knocked on Cowley’s door and was told to ‘enter’ by a stern Scottish voice. Cowley stood up when they came in, and taking a manila file from his desk, he proceeded to reach for his black overcoat. “Come on, we’ll talk on the way,” he said handing the file to Doyle and limping out the door. The two agents followed at his heels.

    The only things he said to them on the way to the car park were “I hope you have a razor with you, Bodie,”  and “ we’ll take my car. We’re going to Winslow Square.”

    “I’ll borrow Doyle’s razor sir.” Bodie responded as he climbed in behind the wheel of Cowley’s car.

    The engine had barely started when Cowley began “At 2.40 this morning three masked gunmen broke into St George’s Prep School in Kent. They took Prince James, aged 12 and killed his bodyguard.” Cowley stilled any questions by continuing, “James is the only child of King Saul of Altan. Saul is married to an English lassie, April Collard. Her father, the boy’s grandfather is Lord Hugh Collard. He runs the Altan consulate from his home on Winslow Square. Before you ask he and I go back a long way and that is one of the reasons C.I.5 is involved.”

    Doyle had been glancing through the file while Cowley was speaking. He looked up as the older man spoke again. “I have slapped a D notice on the media but I don’t know how long we have before something leaks.”

“The abductors, sir, were they black or white?” Bodie asked.

“That’s where it gets interesting the three of them wore long gloves, covering their hands and wrists and they had black stocking masks. The only one who saw them was a house master and he’s very badly shaken.” Cowley pointed to one of a line of elegant Victorian houses. “No. 2, just there, Bodie.”

   Bodie pulled in behind a white van, which was one of the high tech vehicles used by C.I.5.

    “Should we head down to the school and see what we can discover, sir?” Doyle asked as he climbed out of the car.

    “No, Doyle, Murphy is already there. I want you two in London.”

   The three men passed through an imposing black wrought iron gate with a plaque on it reading ‘Consulate of the Kingdom of Altan’.  The front door of the large three storey house stood open. Behan one of the young B Squad members stood in the doorway. “Mr Cowley, sir, Lord Hugh is in his study, first door on the right.” The young man pointed down the hall.

   “Thank you, Behan” Cowley said as they entered.

    The door to the study was opened by one of the tech team as the three men approached it. “It’s ready to go sir, the recording and tracing gear is in place and Sir Hugh is ready and waiting.” a slight man in his late twenties said to Cowley as he stood back and let the men enter.

    Cowley nodded and turned his attention to a distinguished man in his late fifties. Lord Hugh Collard was tall, well built with piercing grey eyes. He was seated behind a large mahogany desk but stood as Cowley and his agents entered. If he was impressive sitting he was completely imposing when he stood, around six feet two inches in height.

    “George, thank you for handling this.” Lord Hugh’s voice was not as strong as his physical features.  

   “Hugh, these are agents Bodie and Doyle. Has there been any communication?” Cowley said.

“Nothing so far and quite frankly, George, I am terrified for James. I’ve just got through to April. She and Saul are in a frightful state. She’s trying to arrange her travel to England. Sorry gentlemen, where are my manners?” He extended a hand first to Doyle then Bodie.

    Cowley sat in a black leather chair opposite Lord’s Hugh’s desk. Lord Hugh waved at the two agents to sit down and they did so on chairs either side of their boss.

“Give us as much background as you can, Hugh.” Cowley requested.

    “My daughter, April met Saul while both of them were studying at Oxford. Saul was the second son of King Rocco; to be frank he was the ‘spare’ while his older brother was the ‘heir’. His father had converted to Christianity and was quite progressive by African ruler standards. There was only Saul and his brother. It was assumed his brother would ascend to the throne and Saul would try to reform education. He was passionately interested in education.  He married April and that caused tutting in certain circles but Marjorie, my late wife, liked him very much and we gave our only child our blessing. Unfortunately while April and Saul were on their honeymoon, Saul’s family were wiped out in a plane crash.

    “Suddenly Saul was king and April became queen. Their whole lives changed. That was fourteen years ago. James is their only child, April almost died when she gave birth to him.”  Lord Hugh stopped, took a deep breath as if to gain strength and carried on. “Altan is a small country, and in many ways, quite primitive. I act as Consul and use my residence as a consulate. It’s a non paying position but there is very little work involved. I would say there are around one hundred Altan residents studying or working in England.” He stopped talking and picked up a silver framed photograph from his desk and began loosening the back of the frame.

   “April brought James over three weeks ago. They spent a week with me then James went to his new boarding school two weeks ago. In fact he was due to come and stay with me in two weeks time; it was to be his first weekend away from school. I spoke to him on the phone two evenings ago and he seemed to be settling in.” Once again Lord Hugh seemed to take a few moments to compose himself.

    Bodie addressed a question to Lord Hugh. “Has there been any unrest in Altan lately or have any threats been made against your son in law or his family?”

    Lord Hugh took the picture from the open frame. He looked at Bodie. “The country seems calm; it’s small and Saul’s family have ruled it for generations. Saul is a good king; well liked and he is trying to bring Altan into the twentieth century so I suppose it’s possible that he has made some enemies.” The older man sighed. “It’s a pretty stable country.”

    Doyle took the lead from his partner. “You mentioned ‘tutting’ when your daughter married, is it possible someone wants to take it farther than just that?” he asked Lord Hugh.

“No.” He hesitated. “No, I don’t think so. It was more to do with race issues and I have never stood for any kind of prejudice so it was straightened out rather quickly and they have been  married fourteen years. I really don’t think it could be linked to this. It’s just awful to kidnap a child.”

   “What’s James like?” Doyle asked.

    Lord Hugh handed him the picture he had removed from the frame; it showed a young boy with very dark features and black hair with curls beginning to grow again after a recent haircut. He was dressed in a school blazer and his eyes looked mischievous.

   “He’s a handsome boy.” Cowley said, taking the photo from Doyle. “We’ll get copies of this made and I’ll return the original to you.”

    “Thanks, George. It’s the waiting I find intolerable.” Just then the phone on his desk rang. Cowley looked around at one of his technicians who was sitting unobtrusively at a desk “It’s ready, sir.” he said addressing Cowley’s unasked question.

Lord Hugh picked up the phone with a visably shaking hand. He shook his head and said, “It’s April.” The conversation was brief. “No, no news yet.”  And then, “That’s good see you soon.” He replaced the receiver and addressed Cowley. “I called in a few favours and the R.A.F. is providing a plane for April. She should be here by early tomorrow morning.”

“Hugh, we will do all we can.” Cowley left the room followed by his two agents.

    Back in the car Cowley spoke. “After you drop me back to headquarters I want you to hit all your contacts; someone has to know something about this. I want those responsible for kidnapping this child found, and found as quickly as possible.” The three men left the car and Cowley entered headquarters while Bodie and Doyle went to Bodie’s car. Bodie swung the Capri out of the car park. “Where to first?” asked Doyle.

“Our first stop is that little caf on Bromley Road”   Bodie answered

Doyle stared at his partner, and just as he opened his mouth, Bodie spoke. “Look, Ray, we both need breakfast and god knows how long it will be before we get a chance to eat again. We can study the file and talk through our options as we eat.”

Doyle grinned “All right, you have a point and I wouldn’t mind knocking back a few aspirin.” Doyle gave in without a fight.

Over breakfast they discussed options and what favours they could call in to get Cowley his information.  They agreed on a plan and Doyle drove while Bodie used the battery razor. Three hours later, and after calling on several ‘grasses’, they were no wiser; it was if the ground had opened and swallowed the young prince. They returned to headquarters to discover that the kidnappers had still not made contact. Cowley snapped at them “What are you doing back here?  Why aren’t you out on the streets?”

“It’s too early to try any of our remaining grasses, sir.” Bodie answered.

“Aye, I suppose it is but there’s not much news from this end.” Cowley’s voice was weary.

After ten minutes the agents decided to leave and get some sleep at home before they visited their ‘evening’ contacts.

    Bodied dropped Doyle off at his flat. Doyle went to bed and was soon in a sound sleep. Bodie did the same at his own place. They managed to grab three hours of sleep before a call from headquarters summoned both of them to Sir Hugh’s residence.

    Cowley was in Sir Hugh’s study when they arrived. “Sir Hugh took a call from the kidnappers twenty minutes ago.” he informed them when they entered the room.

“What are their demands, sir?” Bodie asked as he acknowledged Sir Hugh.

“They want one million Sterling, in ten and twenty pound notes. They say they will phone again in the morning and will produce proof that the boy is alive. They didn’t stay on long enough for a trace” Cowley answered the question and he nodded at the same technician that had been in the room that morning. A tape began to play “We want one million Sterling in tens and twenties.”  The demand was spoken in a man’s voice with a middle class English accent. Sir Hugh’s voice sounded next on the tape. “I need proof that my grandson is still alive.”

“We’ll call at ten in the morning and I’ll provide proof then.”  The line went dead.

“It’s an English accent and it’s a man” Doyle stated.

“Yes, we have somebody in the police lab trying to provide more information on the voice. As you heard there was no background noise which in itself is unusual if the kidnappers were phoning from the city” Cowley said, answering their unasked questions. The ordeal was taking a toll on the boy’s grandfather; the man seemed to have aged ten years in the few hours since they had seen him.

                                            Chapter Two

    By three in the morning almost every contact had struck out. The agents grabbed fish and chips and ate them out of newspaper in the front of Bodie’s car. Bodie was first to finish and helped himself to a couple of Doyle’s chips.

“Oi!” Doyle said but his heart wasn’t in the protest. He handed over the remaining few chips to Bodie and said “Any suggestions as to where to go next? I’ve never seen the streets this quiet.”

“I have one contact left, a bloke by the name of Richards.” Bodie answered as he wiped his hands on the newspaper wrapping.

“Don’t think I’ve heard you mention him before.” Doyle studied his partner.

“No, I haven’t mentioned him. He’s a bad one, organizes mercenaries and isn’t too fissed about outcomes as long as he gets his share.”

“Will he talk?” Doyle asked.

“He won’t want to but there is a chance he’ll know something and I think we have run out of options, so let’s give it a try for the sake of the kid.” Bodie said solemnly.  

    Bodie pulled the car into a space on a leafy bank of the Thames. The area was prosperous and quiet. Bodie locked the car and walked to a discreet black door Doyle followed him. There was a small brass plate on the wall beside the door. It stated simply ‘Richards’ in black lettering. Bodie pushed a buzzer on the door. A disjointed male voice answered through an intercom. “Yes?”

“Bodie to see Richards.” Bodie’s voice was hostile.

“Have you an appointment?”

“It’s 3.20 in the morning! Of course I haven’t got a fucking appointment. Just tell him Bode” Bodie was fuming. Doyle made a mental note to ask his partner about the elusive Richards sometime over a pint.

   The door shuddered slightly as it was sprung open remotely. Bodie pushed it aside and entered a brightly lit hall. The mosaic floor was obviously the original and right in front of them a wide staircase opened up. They climbed the stairs and were greeted at the top by the owner of the disjointed voice; a man in his late twenties with short brown hair and wearing a very expensive suit. He reached over to frisk Bodie but didn’t get time to make contact before Bodie spun around and pinned him to the wall. Bodie reached into the man’s suit pocket and pulled out a Browning.  Just then an older man, in his mid fifties with grey hair and dressed in black slacks and a ruby red smoking jacket appeared in the door way.

“Bodie, leave the hired help alone, would you?”  he said

Bodie pushed the man to the floor and waited for a reaction. The older man addressed the young man as he got up. “Leave us, Smith. I’ll call you when I want you.”  The young man scowled and went down the stairs and the older man turned his attention back to Bodie and Doyle.  “Who is this?” he asked, waving a hand at Doyle.

“Doyle, my partner, I’m with CI5 now but I am sure you know that” Bodie answered as both he and Doyle followed the man back into the room he had emerged from.

The room was brightly lit and it contained a mahogany desk. Against one wall were three comfortable armchairs facing away from the room towards a large window that overlooked another room. Richards waved a hand towards the seats. Doyle and Bodie sat and spun their chairs back towards the room but not before they glanced through the window and realised they were looking through a two- way mirror. A large roulette table, and a smaller poker table were enjoying brisk trade in the room below them.

   “What do you want, Bodie?” Richards asked as he poured three brandies and passed them to the agents.

“Information.” Bodie said then sipped his drink.

“Why should I help you?”

“Because someday it could be useful to know someone in CI5.”

Richards laughed. “You must be pretty desperate for this information to come to me Bodie.”

“I wouldn’t say that but I am in a hurry and I am trying to find a piece of scum and you swim in that kind of water.” Bodie smiled but his eyes were hard. He carried on. “I’m looking for someone who wanted arms for use in this country.”

It was Richards turn to smile. “I don’t supply arms for use anywhere in Her Majesty’s realm. You know that, Bodie, but you are right.  It might be very useful to be owed a favour by CI5.”  Richards tossed back the rest of his brandy. He looked at Bodie then at Doyle. “I know you, Bodie, but who vouches for your sidekick?”

Doyle fumed but didn’t say anything this was his partner’s show. He’d let Bodie handle it whichever way he wanted.

“Doyle’s with me; we’re tight so anything you say can be said in front of him because he isn’t going anywhere.” Bodie stood his ground.

Richards raked in every inch of Raymond Doyle as Doyle stood unflinching. “All right, I think the man you may be after is called Robert Oxford, he was sniffing around looking for arms about a week ago but he didn’t want them for any party abroad. I don’t handle that kind of action but he was very persuasive said there was serious money on the table and within a fortnight he would be looking to arm a private army. I have been in this game too long to fall for that but I made a few enquiries and he seemed to have the right background.” Richards sipped his brandy. “Let’s just say he got his arms but not from me. What I can tell you about him is that he has a pretty little thing stashed away in the pent house of Huston House near Hyde Park.  I don’t think he has a chance of pulling off whatever caper he is up to here, so I might as well help CI5.”

“What’s the girl’s name?” Bodie asked

“Stephanie Francis, and from what I hear she is looking for a way out from Oxford. Word has it that he’s a tad possessive.” 

Doyle and Bodie left the building without seeing the well-dressed body guard. Doyle requested all information on Robert Oxford and Stephanie Francis as they made their way through the quiet London streets. It was four thirty when they pulled into an empty space just in front of Huston House. The building was, in reality, three of the old houses fused together and very tastefully converted to apartments. Bodie commented on the fact that these were ‘apartments’ and not ‘flats’ like the ones CI5 issued.   The two men waited in the car until the information on their suspects was relayed to them. Stephanie Francis had no criminal record, and except for a speeding ticket, she was squeaky clean.  Robert Oxford had been in the British army but had been dishonourably discharged five years before. It was known that he had worked as a mercenary in several African countries and he was believed to be involved in gun smuggling but nothing had been proven. He had used his own passport to leave England three months ago and it was confirmed that he had entered South Africa.  There was no more information on his travel or activities until his arrival in England three weeks ago. The penthouse was owned in his name.

   Bodie looked at Doyle. “I think we’re on to something, Ray.”

“Yeah, but if they’re holding the child in the flat we could get him killed.” Doyle said looking up at the sky. Dawn was not far away.

“It’s unlikely though, a strange kid being brought in would raise too many suspicions. I don’t think he’s here.” Bodie responded

“Yeah, that’s my feeling too. So let’s just pay a visit looking for our old mate Robert.” Doyle said as he checked the rounds in his handgun.

They took the lift to the third floor and emerged on to a floor with deep piled carpet and wood panelled walls.  Stephanie Francis was the only name  on the plate on the door. Bodie rang the bell and waited; nothing stirred in the flat.

“It is very early, Bodie.” Doyle said as Bodie kept his finger on the bell. They heard movement from within.  The door was flung open and a girl in her late twenties with masses of blonde hair and wearing a long black silk dressing gown stood looking at them.

“Do you know what time it is?” she asked them angrily, and looking at them, she realised she didn’t recognize them,but as she tried to close the door, Doyle pushed his foot in and pushed the door back.  “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?  Bob will kill you.” she said as Bodie pushed her back into the flat.

“Is there any one else here?” he asked as he held her tightly while Doyle had his gun drawn and was searching the rooms off the entrance hall of the flat.

“No, there’s no one here, but Bob will be back soon.” The girl was nearly hysterical.

Bodie pushed her into an armchair in the living room. “We’re not going to hurt you we just want some information,  love. ” Bodie said.

She looked around her seeing Doyle reholster his gun. He walked over to a large gaudy globe of the world, which stood open exposing its innards as a drinks cabinet. “Do you want something?” he asked her.

“Well, I normally don’t drink this early but I suppose you’re not going to kill me if you’re asking me if I want a drink,” she said studying both Doyle and Bodie in turn. “Pour us a Scotch and don’t mix it.”

Doyle handed her the glass. “What do you want?” she asked before she sipped her drink.

“We want Robert Oxford, where is he?” Bodie asked, sitting down beside the girl.

She took a sip from her glass before she answered.  “Who wants to know?”

“Bodie and Doyle, CI5. “ Bodie said as he showed her his I.D..

“What do you want with Bob?” she asked between sips

“We think he might be mixed up in a nasty kidnapping and we want to know where he is and everything about him, and if you cooperate with us, you might just spare yourself a prison sentence.” Bodie stated in a matter of fact tone.

“Jesus! I don’t know anything about a kidnapping.”  She took another sip of her drink. She looked from one to the other but all she got was blank stares.  “I swear I don’t know anything. Bob never talks business with me here.” Her mind seemed to be turning something over, and after a few moments she spoke again “Do you really think he’s involved in something like that?”

“Yes, we think your Prince Charming is involved up to his neck in it” Bodie answered while Doyle stood, silently intimidating the girl. It seemed to work as she directed her questions at Bodie.

“He’s not my Prince Charming!”  She sighed. “ I met Bob three years ago; I was twenty one and fed up with having no money. I worked in a bookie shop, that’s where I met him. He was sure of himself and he took me to all kinds of places. He always seemed to have money. I moved in with him after two months but shortly after that things turned nasty. He has a really bad temper and he is very jealous. He would accuse me of flirting with men and a couple of times he hit me. I tried to leave him but everybody is afraid of him; he’s like some kind of psycho. I am terrified of him.” The girl finished off her drink and Doyle took the glass from her hand and refilled it.

He handed it to her and she said, “Thanks. He went away about three months ago, Africa he told me. As soon as he left I packed my bags and moved in with a girlfriend. Three weeks ago he came back, and when he found me, he swore he would kill her if I didn’t come back to him; I had no choice. But if you’re CI5, maybe he’ll go down for a long stretch.”

“We’ll try and help you but you need to tell us all you know.” Bodie answered handing the girl a white handkerchief as she had begun to cry while she was talking.

“All right I don’t know much and that’s the truth but I’ll tell you what I can. After he came back from Africa he started saying he was headed for the big time and how we would get married and have kids. I felt sick as there’s no way I want to marry him or have kids with him. Anyway a few men called to the flat, and whenever they did, he would tell me to go to the bedroom and turn on the TV there. The first few times it happened, I did what he told me to do but I realised he was up to something dodgy and I wanted to know what. Three days ago he told me he had to go to the country on business and he would be gone for about a week I asked him what kind of business and he did this.” She pulled up the loose fitting left hand sleeve of the dressing gown to reveal bruises all along her upper arm.

“You need to get away, Love” Doyle said as he stood near the front door. “There are people who can help you.”

She laughed cynically. “You really don’t know Bob, do you? Look I’ll tell you something; over the last few weeks several men have called to the flat. One of the men was black and he spoke with a foreign accent. One evening about five days ago Bob took a phone call and he wrote something down on the pad beside the phone. Just after that he went out. He said he was meeting a few men who were interested in signing on with him for some work. I copied the address from the pad; I don’t know why exactly but I have it here.”  She stood up from the couch and went into the kitchen. Within a few moments she returned with a small slip of paper. Bodie took it from her with a questioning gaze. “I hide things in the kitchen; Bob thinks a kitchen is a woman’s place.”

“Apple Ridge Farm,” Bodie read aloud. “Did you happen to hear any of the phone conversation?” he asked Stephanie.

“I think he said something about Kent but he noticed I was still in the room so he told me to go into the bedroom but I’m nearly sure it was Kent he mentioned.” The girl looked hopeful. “Will you put him away?” she asked Bodie and he answered her.

 “If he’s involved in what we’re investigating he’ll be going down for a long stretch but I’ll make a deal with you; if he turns out to be clean on this one I’ll come around and help you pack your stuff and take you somewhere safe. I promise.” Bodie leaned in and wiped a tear from her cheek.

   He handed her a card with CI5’s number written on it and his name.

“Thanks,” she said and added “I really think you will help me.”

   Back in the car Doyle turned on his partner. “What the hell were you thinking? You aren’t some bleeding  knight in shining armour Cowley will have you hide for that.”

“Doyle, if I hadn’t given her a card, you would have; I know you and you can’t stand to see women hurt. Look we’ll deal with it after we find these bastards, deal?” Bodie started the engine.

Doyle sighed “All right.”

Doyle asked for the address of all known ‘Apple Ridge Farms’ in Kent and was told in a very frosty voice that it would take some time.  They drove to headquarters and picked up a picture of Robert Oxford; he had dark brown hair, clean features and blue hooded eyes. They had copies of the picture made and then went to see their boss. Cowley had probably slept on the leather day bed in his office and although he looked tired, he was clean-shaven and wore a clean white shirt with a navy tie and a dark grey suit. He was drinking coffee when the agents entered his office. He was interested in the information they had gathered and gave them his blessing to drive down to Kent and follow their lead.

   The agents stopped by the computer room and were told there were twenty two properties of that name registered in Kent. They returned to Cowley’s office to see if more men could be put on the task of visiting the farms but Cowley was adamant that all his other agents were to be utilised in London. They were on their own. They picked up bacon sandwiches and tea in disposable cups before they left London and headed south on the M25. Doyle balanced the computer printout of the address of ‘Apple Ridge Farms’ on his knee while juggling his bacon sandwich and his polystyrene cup of tea. Somehow Bodie managed to drive while juggling his cup and his sandwich. It was still early morning and they made good time as they were headed out of the capital and thus were travelling against the traffic. They decided along the way to ignore the two farms with addresses near Tunbridge Wells and Maidstone and trust their instinct to head father south into the countryside. They left the motorway at Sevenoaks and headed deeper into Kent. Neither of them mentioned the outcome if they were on a wild goose chase.

   Cowley came on the radio at 9.15 to say the kidnappers had phoned early and they had played a short tape of James reading a headline from the morning’s Times. After that they had immediately rang off and phoned again ten minutes later with their instructions.  The instructions were clear; Sir Hugh was to take a briefcase containing a million in pounds Sterling and he was to drive to Harrods and answer the public phone opposite the main door of the store. He was to come alone and if the kidnappers got even the hint of a tail, they would kill James. The handover was set for 2 pm. Cowley said he wanted them back in London for the handover and that they could continue their search in Kent, but if nothing turned up they were to be back by show time.

    Doyle looked at his wristwatch. “He’s not giving us much time, is he? It’s 8am now.”

   “Well it gives us a few hours so let’s try and find a few of these places”  Bodie replied.

   By 11 o’clock they had located five of the properties and discounted them adding that to the two places they had chosen to ignore.They were down to fifteen farms or at least properties with that name, as  they discovered  two of the ‘Farms’ had turned out not to be working farms at all. They were now deep in the Kent countryside and driving on side roads. For two city born men, it was somewhat frustrating to cover so little ground in such a slow method but they had little choice. 

They decided to discard five properties by looking at the road map and deciding they were too close to large towns or medium villages. They kidnappers would obviously choose some place away from busy towns. They stopped for a loo break at a small country pub where they hastily drank tea and where Bodie managed to scoff a fruit scone while poring over their trusty map.  One of the addresses that caught Doyle’s eye was located outside a village called Lydd; it was off the A259 and, roughly a half hour from their present location. For some reason both men felt drawn to it and so they went on their instinct. Neither mentioned the fact that if they were wrong, they would be in heavy duty trouble with their boss for wasting valuable time. Doyle studied James’s picture as they drove. “He looks a normal enough kid” He mused “but it must be strange being a prince and to know one day you’ll be king.” 

“Yeah, put down the bloody picture and try and locate our turn, will you?” Bodie answered.

                                                    Chapter Three

     They nearly drove past ‘Apple Ridge Farm’ as the sign proclaiming it to be so was over grown with briars and weeds.  Only Doyle’s keen eyes spotted it as Bodie drove by. “There it is but keep going.” Doyle said 

“What?” Bodie asked, as he knew his partner must have spotted something unusual to suggest  driving past the very property they were looking for.

“There’s a car coming down the drive. Pull in here and we’ll see which way it’s going.” Doyle answered and Bodie pulled the Capri into the damp ditch at the side of the road. He had stopped the car two hundred yards from the overgrown gate. Doyle got out and pulled up the boot.  He got the tyre jack out of its interior so that anybody giving the parked car a second look would presume he was going to change a flat wheel. Within a moment of Doyle leaving the vehicle, an old Defender pulled out of the drive and turned towards Lydd and away from them. Doyle shut the boot and Bodie got out of the car.

 “How are we going to play this? “ he asked his partner.

“I don’t know, Bodie, but I have a gut feeling about this place. Look around it would be the perfect place to hide something or someone, wouldn’t it?”  Doyle answered.

“Well we could do the broken down car routine.” suggested Bodie.

“No, let’s just have a snoop about for ourselves.” Doyle replied.

     The men turned the car around and headed back to the gate but they pulled in about thirty feet away from it and got out of the car. They looked around and found a way through the thick hedge of briars and brambles. They approached the house keeping to the protection of the hedge the whole way there. They stopped about twenty feet away from the main house, which was an old farm house. It was two stories high and its white washed walls were faded with age and neglect. There was no sign of movement but smoke billowed from the chimney. They studied the whole place. There were three out buildings consisting of a garage, something that, at one stage must have been a barn and a shed, all painted with white wash and all in need of repair. Doyle signed to Bodie and began to make his way around the back of the house while Bodie used the cover of a Ford Cortina and the rusting body of an ancient tractor to make his way to the garage.

    Doyle approached the kitchen window and pressed his head against the dirty window pane. There were two men seated at a long wooden table. One of them was reading The Times while the other one smoked a cigarette. They both had their backs to the window.

Bodie made his way through the garage and discovered a beige Ford Escort parked there. He moved to the shed and had to clean away several layers of grime before he could see in to it. He caught his breath; there was an old iron bed frame with a brand new mattress, and lying on it asleep, was the kidnapped boy. Bodie saw that the door had a new padlock on it. Suddenly he heard voices and just managed to move away from the window and back into the cover of the garage when two men walked out of the front door of the house. From his concealed position Bodie clearly saw Robert Oxford talking with a tall thin black man, Just then Doyle came up behind Bodie. Neither man said anything but the two men in the yard drew nearer the garage and the agents could hear them quite clearly.

Robert Oxford spoke in clipped tones. “Look, Mathieu, we stick to the plan. Johnny will be back in half an hour and he will have spoken to Lewis. We don’t kill the boy until after the drop. He’s insurance if anything goes wrong with retrieving the ransom.” The black man mumbled something. Oxford turned on him. “This is my operation and we stick to the bloody plan.” With that he walked back towards the house with Mathieu following closely on his heels.

    “It seems your instinct was right, Doyle, the boy is in the shed asleep.” Bodie whispered.

“There’s two more in the kitchen and I don’t know if there’s any more upstairs.” Doyle said.

“Okay, let’s take stock. We have at least four men with another due back anytime. It’s 12. 15 .We can radio in our position and wait for the cavalry to arrive and just monitor the situation; the boy is in no imminent danger or - ” Bodie stopped talking as Doyle finished his sentence -- “Or we could grab the boy and run like hell.”

“That’s also a good plan, Doyle, but if it goes wrong we could get the kid killed.”

“True, but on the other hand, how long will Oxford be able to prevent that Mathieu guy from killing him?” Doyle had settled in beside Bodie and was watching the farm and the yard. “I don’t like leaving a kid in danger; the poor little bugger is probably scared to death, he’s already seen his bodyguard killed.”

“Doyle, that soft spot of yours will be the death of us yet.” Bodie hissed. Suddenly the old Land Rover Defender pulled into the yard. Oxford and another man appeared in the yard.

“Damn!” Doyle swore under his breath. “That’s another one of them; the two in the kitchen are white” hesaid.

The man from the Defender greeted Oxford and called the black man, Billy. He said, “Bob, Billy, is everything quiet here?”

“Yes quiet as a church graveyard,” Oxford answered. “The young lad is still out; Mathieu gave him some of that sleeping stuff straight after he read the headline. How are Art and the others holding out?”

“Art says they are ready for the drop and they’re going to run the legs off the old man, they’ll get the ransom.”

“Mathieu wants to kill the kid now but we are sticking to the plan. That’s the reason I stayed down here, I knew there’d be trouble and I want to be able to keep control.” Oxford and the two men walked into the house.

“Let’s try and take the kid from under their noses; with any luck we could be miles away before they miss him” Doyle proposed.

“All right, you don’t want to leave the kid here and I understand that, so what’s the plan? You have got a plan, Doyle, haven’t you?” Bodie asked his partner.

Doyle sat back on his haunches. “First of all we’re lucky the Capri wasn’t spotted so that gives us the element of surprise.  One of us goes back to the car and radios in our position and moves the car nearer to the farm. I’ll pick the lock on the shed and grab the boy and make my way to the car and you take off. How does that sound?”

“Bloody ludicrous but it might work.” Bodie grinned.

“Before you say anything, I’m better at locks than you are” Doyle said.

“I’m not disagreeing. Do you want me to cover you here and we’ll head for the car together?”

“No. I’d feel better knowing you were gunning the engine and ready to go in case it doesn’t go to plan.”  Doyle said as he removed his gun from his holster.

“All right, give me a few minutes to get to the car, and by the way, if anything goes wrong I’ll be ready to head up the drive; they won’t be expecting that.” Bodie stood up and ruffled Doyle’s hair.

Doyle waited four minutes by his watch then made his way quietly to the shed.  He had little trouble with the padlock. It was early afternoon but the shed was gloomy. Doyle shook the kid awake and immediately told him to be quiet. The kid obeyed and Doyle wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or if the kid was still drugged. He  pulled the boy to a sitting position and said “I’m here to rescue you; my name is Ray and me and my partner, Bodie, work for the government. So you have to be very brave and do exactly what I tell you to do, do you understand?”

The boy was dressed in a pair of blue striped pyjamas and he turned his huge eyes on Doyle. “I knew my father or my grandfather would send someone to find me. I’m sleepy, Ray, but I can do whatever you say.” The boy was trying to hold back his tears.

“All right, James, we’re going to try and slip away from here, Bodie is waiting in a car just down the road. Stay close to me and run.”  Doyle stood the boy on his bare feet; James was a solid boy for his age and he staggered for a moment and Doyle thought he might have to carry him but somehow the boy regained his balance.

    Doyle peered out from behind the shed door; the way seemed clear. The yard was empty and both the front and back door of the farmhouse were closed. He held the boy’s hand in his left one and his gun in his right hand. They moved out of the door and kept to the shadows created by the shed. They were moving towards the prickly hedge when it all went wrong.

   The front door of the house opened and two men came out. One of them spotted Doyle and the boy and shouted out as he began firing. Doyle shoved the boy in front of him, trying to provide some protection. He tried to keep their momentum going as he turned and fired.

Bodie had the engine running when he heard the gun shots and he immediately turned into the drive way of the farmhouse. He knew that Doyle would now make for there.  He pushed the accelerator down hard and swept up the drive and into the yard. He swung the car around trying to provide cover for Doyle and the boy. Doyle saw the Capri and immediately broke cover and headed for the car.

Doyle flung open the passenger door of the car and pushed the boy on to the floor of the back seat. “Stay down, James, until we tell you it’s safe” He shouted.  Doyle spun back towards his pursuers while firing his own gun. The window of the car was open and suddenly Doyle felt a burning sensation in his left side. He grunted but managed to fall into the front seat of the car as Bodie squealed away.  They hit the main road and drove away from the farm. Bodie pressed a handkerchief into Doyle’s hand.

“How bad, Ray?” he asked as he manoeuvred the car along the country lanes.

Doyle grunted as he pressed the cloth against his side. “The bullet’s still in there but it could be worse.”

“Yeah? How could it be worse?” Bodie asked, taking his eyes off the road for a moment and not liking the colour of his partner’s face. Doyle was pure white.

“It could have hit my engagingly modest partner.” Doyle tried for levity. 

Bodie took a quick look back at the boy lying on the floor. “Are you okay back there?” he asked.

James answered in a small voice “Yes.” And Bodie reached for the radio mic.

“Do they know where we are?” Doyle asked him.

“No, I couldn’t get any reception from the farm, I’ll try again. For a few minutes they drove on in silence then Bodie said, “We have company.”

Doyle tried to lean out of the window and hissed as his gunshot wound began to bleed even more profusely. They rounded a tight bend in the road and after a few moments Bodie said “I make three cars, a Discovery, a Cortina and an Escort.”  

“Two in each probably.” Doyle panted.

Bodie’s voice was loud as he managed to keep the car on the road while continuing to man the radio. Doyle had enough on his hands trying to stop his wound from bleeding and aim his handgun out of the open window.

“Come in control” repeated time after time. They rounded a particularly tight bend when suddenly a voice could be heard from the radio.  

Doyle shouted “Keep down James no matter what, don’t look up.”

Bodie pressed the microphone and demanded to be put through to Cowley. Within a few moments Cowley’s Scottish tones filled the car. Bodie told him they had the child but were being pursued by three cars and probably at least six men. He told him Doyle had been shot and he managed to call out the name of the secondary road they were travelling on.

Bullets were hitting the Capri and Doyle was firing out of the passenger window. Simultaneously Doyle and one of their pursuers got lucky.  One of the bullets hit the back wheel on the left hand passenger side while Doyle’s bullets blasted the windscreen of the Discovery. 

Bodie tried hard to keep the Capri moving while the man driving the Land Rover lost control. It spun wildly off the road, hit a tree and came to a stop, partially blocking the road. The Cortina and the Escort coming up fast behind it nearly went out of control too but their drivers managed to bring them to a halt beside the Defender.

    Doyle took in all of this in a few moments while he turned back into the car from his position of leaning out of the window. All that movement increased the pain in his side and he fought against losing consciousness. Meanwhile Bodie tried to maintain control of the heavy Capri, but with one of its rear tyres shot out, it was only a matter of a few minutes before the car slewed across the road and came to a stop blocking the road.

    Somehow Bodie had managed to hang on to the microphone. He brought Cowley up to speed on their predicament.

 Doyle said, “Bodie, there’s a barn up on that hill.” He pointed to a sturdy old farm building located on a small hill to their right.

 Bodie took a quick glance and said to Cowley “We are going to make for a barn a couple of hundred yards from our location."  He looked behind him and realized that Doyle’s bullet had bought them some time as confusion reigned at the Discovery.

   He pressed the microphone again “There’s an army garrison near Chatham, can you get them mobilized?”

Cowley’s voice broke through the static. “That’s just what I was thinking. Leave your radio on and we’ll get an accurate position.”

Bodie said, “Over and out.”

“Where’s your spare gun?” Doyle asked in a laboured voice.

“Hang on, I’ll get it.” Bodie got out of the car and reached under the driver’s seat. Underneath it a handgun was taped to the chair seat. He removed it and said, “James you can come out of the car now.”

   The boy didn’t say anything, just did as he was told. Meanwhile Doyle got out of the passenger side. He used the car bonnet as  support as he made his way to Bodie.

   “Bodie, give me the gun, and I’ll buy you some time.” Doyle’s face was a mask of pain.

   Bodie turned to the boy. “James, can you run?” he asked and pointed to the building on the small hill. “Run like hell to that barn, go inside and wait for us there”

   James looked at where Bodie was pointing. “Yes sir, I can make that.”

“Good lad.”

James took off, running awkwardly as if some of the drug the kidnappers had given him was still in his system. Bodie turned his attention to Doyle. “Ray, there’s no way I’m leaving you behind.”

Ray began to protest but Bodie waved him to silence and continued. “I’ll need you in that barn to help until the army lads arrive, it makes sense.”

“Bodie, I can buy you and the boy some time, get going.”

“Ray, if positions were reversed, would you leave me here?”

Doyle opened his mouth to protest but as he did so the truth of Bodie’s question hit him. He blinked his eyes closed against the dreadful pain in his side and said, “All right.”

    Bodie was at his side in a moment. Doyle changed his gun to his left hand causing a flame of pain to engulf him. He put his right arm around Bodie and leaned into his partner’s strong body.

“All right, mate, let’s go.” Bodie said as they started off.

    Bodie had put his spare gun in the pocket of his leather jacket. He kept his own gun in his right hand and used his left hand to gather his partner close to his body. Up ahead, Bodie saw James reach the barn and disappear from sight. When he and Doyle moved off, they moved out of sight of their pursuers who were still trying to regroup and move the Defender off the road.

    The journey was only a couple of hundred yards but Bodie could tell that it was draining Doyle of his last reserves. So far adrenalin had helped Doyle but that was just escaping from his body. Bodie tucked his partner nearer to his body and tried to ignore Doyle’s small grunts of pain.

   Bodie was relieved to make it to the large open door of the barn. He pulled Doyle inside and eased him down to the hay- strewn floor near a window. Doyle tried to mute a grunt of pain as he made contact with the unforgiving cement floor. Bodie left him and closed the heavy barn door. He looked around at the gloomy interior. Sunlight was breaking through two relatively large windows, one at either side of the door. He turned his attention to the boy who was standing staring at Doyle.

   “James, help me turn over that old work bench on its side.” Bodie said as he reached a solid wooden bench near the back of the barn. The boy did as he was told and when it was turned on its side, Bodie was content that it offered the best protection for their charge.

“James, lie down on the floor behind this bench and under no circumstance look up, do you understand?”

The boy looked frightened. “Yes sir, but what about Ray? He’s hurt very badly, isn’t he?”

“Ray? No, he’s been in far worse fights than this; blood always looks very scary.  He’ll be all right.” Bodie’s voice was strong, hiding all his emotions behind his bravado.  James lay behind the bench.  “Don’t come out from there till Ray or I tell you it’s safe, have you got that?”

“Yes sir.”

   Bodie made his way to his partner’s side. Doyle had managed to sit up against the barn wall beside the window to the left of the door. He was ashen.

“Ray, I’m going to take off your jacket and get your shirt off to use it to staunch the bleeding, okay?” Bodie was concerned and didn’t like the look of Doyle’s pallor at all. Gently Bodie eased Doyle’s scruffy leather jacket off him and removed his light blue denim shirt, which was awash with blood. Doyle hissed a little as Bodie removed his shirt from where it had adhered to the wound, next he wrapped the shirt around his partner’s waist, trying to keep it tight enough to stem the bleeding. Every minute or so Bodie would look out of the window to see if they were being pursued yet. When Bodie had finished tying the shirt, he slipped the leather jacket over Doyle’s shoulders.

    Doyle had his eyes closed trying hard to make no sound while Bodie saw to his wound.  Once Bodie was finished, Doyle  forced the bile back down his throat, opened his eyes and waited for the  world to stop spinning. For a very long moment he was afraid he was going to pass out but he fought the feeling; not willing to leave Bodie as James’s sole protector.

    Bodie produced another handkerchief and wiped Doyle’s forehead. From as though down a long tunnel, Bodie asked, “Are you okay, Sunshine?” It took Doyle some time to decipher the words and make a response. “I’ve been better but I’m doing okay.”

   Bodie didn’t believe Ray’s words for an instant but he played along and replied “Of course you’re all right, Dr Bodie has never lost a patient yet.”

   Doyle stared into Bodie’s face before answering. “I’ll try to stay alive if only to maintain your record.”

   Bodie looked out of the window and was just about to say something to his partner when he spotted four men approaching the barn with  gins drawn. “Looks like we’re in business. See you after the fireworks.” He took up his position at the window on the other side of the door. “Where are the other two?” he asked Doyle.

“Maybe they’re injured or making their way around back of the barn.” Doyle replied as he hoisted himself into position beside the window.

“Won’t do them any good, there’s only one door into the barn” Bodie responded.

    One of the kidnappers opened fire as he approached the front of the barn Both Bodie and Doyle returned fire and they had the pleasure of seeing the first gunman grab his shoulder and dive into the cover of a nearby tree.  The other three spread out and took whatever cover they could find. Bodie stole a glance at Doyle. Doyle’s curls were flattened and stuck to his head with sweat. Bodie really hoped that the brief exchange of gun fire had gotten his partner’s adrenalin pumping again, because Doyle looked like he was an inch away from total collapse. Another shot or two was fired at the barn hitting the old wooden walls with some force. A man’s voice broke the silence. “Send out the boy and you can go free; we’re only interested in the boy.”

   “That’s got to be Oxford” Bodie said. He turned towards James and said “There’s no way we’re giving you to them, we intend to bring you to safety to your grandfather, but we could do with buying some time until the army arrives so I’ll just try to string them along.”

Bodie turned towards the window and shouted through the broken pane “How do we know we can trust you?”

“You have my word.” the man shouted back

“Give me some time to convince my partner.” Bodie responded.

“You have five minutes than all hell will break loose.”

“Ray, how are you doing for ammo?”

“I’ve about fifteen rounds.” Doyle’s voice was pain filled.

“I’ve nearly double that including my spare gun, that should be enough to hold us.”

Doyle knew Bodie was speaking for the boy’s benefit but he didn’t have the strength to play along. It was taking all his strength just to keep himself propped against the window.

    Gunfire from outside announced the end of the five minutes. Both Doyle and Bodie tried to make every shot count. Suddenly loud noises punctured the gunfire and a voice through a P.A. system announced “This is the British army, we have you surrounded and outnumbered. Throw down your weapons” There was a slight pause then the same voice added. “Doyle and Bodie hold your fire.”

   One of the kidnappers opened fire and suddenly all hell broke lose. Doyle and Bodie slid down the walls ad waited for it to end, which it did rather abruptly. The strident voice came over the P.A.system. “Bodie Doyle, we can account for five men here and one dead back at the Defender, are there any more?”

Bodie stood up and shouted “We think there were only six.”

“Righto” was the reply.

Bodie spoke to the boy. “Stay where you are, James, until the army come in.” He opened one of the large barn doors.

An army officer in fatigues entered, leading three other men. The officer was around forty with a completely bald head. He introduced himself to Bodie as Captain Woodford. He followed Bodie to Doyle and told one of his men to fetch the doctor. He turned back to Bodie and said “Your Major Cowley told us one of you was injured. We’ve brought one of our doctors and a medic. Is the boy all right?”

Bodie turned his attention from his partner and called out, “ James, you can come out now; the good guys are here.”

The boy emerged and went to Bodie’s side. Bodie led him away from Doyle and asked a medic to have a look at him. He returned to his partner.

Doyle had slid down the wall when the army had announced its arrival; secure in the knowledge that he was needed no longer.

The army doctor was kneeling down beside Doyle when Bodie reached him. The doctor asked if Doyle was allergic to anything and Bodie answered for his partner. “No, what are you giving him?”

“I am going to give him a shot of morphine before I look at his wound.” With that, he proceeded to inject morphine into Doyle. Doyle was ashen and clammy and obviously in a pretty bad way. Bodie kneeled down beside him.

Doyle looked at him and asked, “Is the boy okay?”

“He’s fine, Ray, we did our jobs.”

Doyle’s eyes glazed  over and it was clear the morphine was kicking in.

  The doctor applied a field dressing to Doyle’s right side and stood up. He called one of the soldiers and asked him to radio in their location and request a helicopter to evacuate a patient.

  Bodie left his partner’s side and stood beside the doctor. Before he could ask about Doyle’s condition the doctor spoke. “It’s hard to tell how serious it is but he has obviously lost a lot of blood. I’m going to put up a saline drip. I’ve asked for the helicopter because he needs a hospital with full operating theatres. I’m going to travel with him to monitor his condition.” He smiled at Bodie. “I’ll take good care of him.”

He turned his attention to the boy. The medic told him James’s eyes were fully responsive and it looked like he had been given some kind of drug. The doctor said to James, “I’m Harry, I just want to take a little sample of your blood so I can find out what drug you were given. I am going to take it with me in the helicopter and you are going to the army base, all right?”

James nodded and only flinched slightly when the doctor took the sample.

Bodie returned to Doyle’s side and was happy to see his partner was feeling no pain. The morphine had done its job. “Ray you’re getting to travel in style; there’s a helicopter coming for you. I’m going to the army base with the boy. I’ll drop by later to see you and the nurses.” Bodie squeezed Doyle’s shoulder and smiled.

Doyle managed to say, “Right.” before he zoned out.  Bodie looked at the doctor who had also returned to Doyle. “We’ll take good care of him.” He answered Bodie’s unasked question.

The kidnappers were removed by an army lorry while the injured and dead were removed in an army ambulance. The whole wipe up operation took about twenty minutes. Doyle’s helicopter arrived as Bodie and James climbed up front of an Army jeep.

James’s voice broke into Bodie’s thoughts as they drove away. “Will Ray be all right?”

Bodie ruffled the boy’s hair “Of course; he’s had far worse than just a bullet wound.”

Bodie felt sick as a vision of Doyle on the floor of his flat popped unbidden into his mind. He said to the boy. “I’ll let you into a secret; Ray is as tough as old boots. He makes Superman look soft.”

James smiled and began to giggle.  Bodie hammed it up. “He hasn’t got the legs for tights but don’t tell him I told you so.”

The boy’s face turned serious. “Thank you, Bodie, for rescuing me.” He leaned against Bodie’s side and Bodie put his arm around him Within minutes James was asleep and Bodie was left to his own thoughts which immediately turned again to his partner. Bodie had seen too much death not to realize how easily it comes to wounded men. It wasn’t always the bullet that killed; sometimes it was serious blood loss or infection. A couple of things stood in Ray’s favour. First of all he was relatively near a hospital and secondly but perhaps more importantly Ray was a fighter. Bodie tried to take some consolation from his thoughts.

   The next few hours were spent getting James checked out. It was decided to send him to Great Ormond Street Hospital just to make sure there were no side effects from whatever drug the kidnappers had given him. Bodie identified the body of Robert Oxford. He had been shot and killed by a soldier. The body of the other kidnapper, the one Doyle had shot, had yet to be identified. CI5 had a couple of teams on their way to take over the operation from the army.

    Bodie travelled with James in the back seat of an army owned Ford Consul. James was still somewhat lethargic but stayed snuggled against Bodie for the journey. Bodie couldn’t wind down.  There had been no news of Doyle since his airlift.

    They arrived at Great Ormond Street to find Cowley, Lord Hugh and a very anxious looking light brown- haired woman in her late thirties who was obviously the boy’s mother. The woman ran to James as soon as they walked through the hospital entrance. James was wearing a green army jumper, which was so big on him that it reached down past the knees of his pyjamas. James’s mother threw her arms around her son and pulled him into a bear hug. She looked up at Bodie, her eyes red-rimmed from crying, and said, “Thank you so much.”

Lord Hugh came forward and put his hand on his grandson’s shoulder, squeezed him and said “Thank God you’re safe.” He stood up and shook Bodie’s hand. “I knew if anybody could get my grandson back alive, it would be George Cowley’s men. I have no words to express my gratitude to you and Mr. Doyle.”  Lord Hugh swallowed hard.  “I am so sorry he was injured and I hope he makes a complete recovery quickly.”

Cowley had come over to Bodie while Lord Hugh was speaking. After he had finished he addressed Bodie. “Doyle is in surgery. I’ll expect a report on my desk tomorrow. It was a sloppy rescue; Murphy will take you to Doyle.”

“Right, sir.” Bodie answered. As if on call, Murphy materialized beside Cowley.

“Bodie!” Cowley called out as his agent turned to leave. Bodie turned back and was greeted by, “Good outcome.”  Bodie realized it was as near to a compliment as his boss would offer. He smiled at the older man. “Thank you.”  Just then Lord Hugh stood up and gave Bodie a military salute and Bodie saluted back.

Chapter  Four

    Murphy asked about the kidnappers on the drive to the hospital. Bodie was glad to tell the tale as it took his mind off Doyle or at least kept him busy; nothing could get his mind off his partner. Murphy apologised as he dropped him at the entrance, he was to go back to Great Ormond Street for Cowley.

   Bodie asked at the information desk for news of his partner. He had to flash his I.D. to gain information and admittance. He took a lift to the fourth floor and waited at an empty nurses’ station for a few minutes until the sister in charge arrived. She was matronly, pleasantly plump with light brown permed hair. She asked to see his identification and once she had seen it immediately opened up about his partner. “Mr Doyle was operated on a few hours ago, his surgeon, Mr Lavelle, has gone home but I can tell you he removed a bullet and fortunately it hadn’t hit any major organs. Mr Doyle lost a considerable amount of blood and he is receiving a blood transfusion. He is sedated and resting comfortably.”  She looked at Bodie’s tight features and smiled. “I suppose you want to see him yourself to be sure, so come along with me and we’ll check on him together.”

For the first time in hours Bodie felt he could breathe easily. All he said was, “Thank you” and he followed her to two swing doors with  ‘ Intensive Care Unit’ painted on a glass inset. She pushed open one of the doors and he followed after her. “Don’t worry about this being I.C.U. It’s just so we can monitor Mr Doyle after his surgery and hopefully he will be moved to a ward tomorrow.” 

They were in a long room containing six beds, five of which were occupied. Doyle was in the one nearest the door.  He lay amid tubes and I.V.s and he was linked up to several machines but he was breathing unassisted. Bodie knew from his previous experience with Doyle that that was a good sign. Doyle looked pale and there was a fine sheen of sweat on his face, emphasising his five o’clock shadow.

“Well, I’ll leave you for a few minutes I’d say it will be late morning before Mr Doyle is awake.” The nurse bustled away

. Bodie moved in nearer the bed. He looked at his partner and noted the blood dripping slowly into Doyle’s body. Bodie gulped, experiencing a feeling of relief. He stood beside Doyle’s bed for fifteen minutes just watching his partner sleep. The blanket and sheet were tucked securely around Doyle’s body but Bodie smoothed them out, he had a need to do something. For the first time in a very long time, he felt love; real and unadulterated. He sniffled and reached for his handkerchief, frowning slightly when he remembered giving  it to Doyle. He decided to leave and was hit by an almost overwhelming desire to lean over and kiss his partner’s lips. He fought the feeling and found himself pushing back a few stray curls from Doyle’s forehead. “See you tomorrow, Ray.”  he whispered and left the room.

He met Cowley at the lift his boss had just stepped out of it.  “How’s Doyle?” Cowley asked

“Sedated, but he’ll make it “ Bodie replied as he pushed the button to open the lift doors.

“Aye, I spoke to his surgeon; it seems Doyle is a lucky man” Cowley replied, casting an eye up the corridor Bodie had just come down as if trying to decide if he needed to see his injured agent. He appeared to make a decision and turned back towards the lift. It arrived and both men entered it.

Bodie pressed the button for the ground floor. Cowley spoke. “It seems Oxford’s men are very keen to talk to us. They have already told us about the kidnapping. A cousin of King Saul’s was the one responsible. He employed Oxford to gather a team here in England and sent several of his men to this country. It’s obvious Oxford had been promised something more than the ransom but I’ll have all the details tomorrow morning. I intend to let them stew a little so they will be even more willing to talk. In the meantime I have a watch on all airports and ports. I hope the men who staged the ransom collection in London will be found.” The doors of the lift opened on the ground floor. Both men got out. Cowley said “Murphy will drop you home and then he will drop me off. Here, you look like you could do with it.” Cowley handed him a silver hip flask.  Both men stopped just inside the door of the hospital foyer.

 Bodie took a long drink; it was smooth, single malt scotch. It burned a path down to his stomach but he was glad of its warmth. He handed the flask back to his boss. “Thanks sir.”

Chapter Five

       Bodie slept well; that is to say he didn’t suffer any nightmares. He got up at seven a.m. and phoned the hospital where a cheerful nurse told him that Doyle had had a comfortable night. After a shower and a shave Bodie hailed a taxi on the street and made small talk about football and American tourists with the middle aged driver.  Alf, on the security desk, and a few agents Bodie met on his way through headquarters all asked about Doyle. He went to his desk and began writing up a report of yesterday’s events. An hour later when he had just finished it, he was called to Cowley’s office.

    After asking about Doyle, Betty told him to go straight into the office. Cowley was standing beside his drinks tray, his tie was loosened and he was in shirt sleeves. He motioned a glass towards Bodie who said, “yes, thank you, sir.” Cowley poured two generous measures of a single malt whisky into glasses and handed one to Bodie.

   Cowley’s limp was more pronounced than yesterday as he made his way to his desk and sat down. Bodie sat opposite the desk. Neither man said anything as they took sips of the golden liquid.  Then Cowley finally spoke” We have them all, Bodie. Early this morning the picture began to emerge. You saw four men and there were three more in London, following the ransom. Of course when you rescued the boy, the drop was called off. It appears one of King Saul’s cousins, Daniel Defroe, was the mastermind behind the plot. He is being arrested in Altan as we speak. There are two Altan nationals involved here in England. You and Doyle saw three white men and one black, and one of the men captured yesterday told us everything. Oxford was employed by Defroe to arrange the kidnapping here. Neither party trusted the other one too much so one of Oxford’s men was sent to London with two of Defroe’s to ensure the handing over of the ransom went smoothly while one of Defroe’s men stayed with Oxford in Kent. All the men from the London operation were detained when they tried to leave this morning. Defroe’s men were arrested at Heathrow while Oxford’s man was arrested at Gatwick.” Cowley stopped talking and sipped his drink.

“What happens next?” Bodie asked

“Well, we will probably hand the Altan nationals back to their own authorities while the British ones will go on trial here,” Cowley answered and continued on. “The crime was committed here but as a courtesy to the Altan ruler, they will be shipped back. From what I can gather, Saul and his people are unravelling a plot to overthrow him. It seems once the ransom had been obtained, the boy was to be killed and the money was to have been used to fund a coup in Altan.

“By all accounts it is a poor country but oil has been found in one of its neighbouring countries and there is a belief that there may be some in Altan. So you see a dead heir and a well arranged coup fronted by mercenaries led by Oxford could have worked.”

“I would imagine Altan could be a very useful country to have friends in.” Bodie said and finished his scotch.

“Aye, the PM is very pleased which might help us as our budget is up for renewal soon.” Cowley smiled.

Bodie knew his boss would certainly remind the Prime Minister of C.I. 5’s successful involvement in this case.

Cowley frowned as if remembering something slightly annoying. “The car you had from the car pool is being repaired, you may use the car assigned to 4.5 until the repairs are completed. Doyle is making a satisfactory recovery but I assume you phoned the hospital yourself this morning.”

Bodie spoke up. “When Doyle comes out of hospital, I thought I might take a few days off;  use up some of the leave I’ve accumulated.”

“I have no objection to that.”

Bodie stood up. “Thank you, sir.”  Bodie tried to hide his smile; it wouldn’t do for the old man to think he was too pleased. He reached for the door handle.

“And Bodie be in tomorrow morning at 8.”

Bodie really did smile. He went straight to the car pool and picked up a spare set of keys and the gold Capri, which Doyle favoured. His own car was nowhere to be seen. He escaped from the car pool with words of “You boys are all the same; no bloody respect for these cars.”  Bodie ignored the tirade and took off with rear wheels squealing just to prove he was ignoring the grumble.

   Bodie went to Intensive Care but was delighted when he was informed that Doyle had been moved to his own room.  Bodie found him on the third floor in a private room. Doyle was awake but had his eyes closed. He opened them the moment Bodie walked in.

“How are we today, Raymond?” Bodie asked in a very false B.B.C. accent.

“I’ve been better but I’m a hell of a lot better than yesterday “ Doyle replied.

Bodie could see the truth in these words. Doyle was off all the drips, and although he looked a bit pale it was obvious that he was returning to his old self. Bodie put a Guardian newspaper and a biker magazine on the wheeled tray over Doyle’s bed.

“Ta,” Doyle muttered but before either man could say anything else there was a discreet tap on the door. Doyle called out, “Come in’ and Bodie tensed unconsciously. A very large basket of fruit covered in cellophane was thrust into the room by a rotund delivery man

. “Here you are,” he said as he pushed the newspaper and magazines to one side and placed the basket there. The man was unaware that Bodie had reached instinctively for his gun when he entered the room. Doyle and he had made many enemies over the last few years and Bodie was taking no chances where his wounded partner was concerned. Cowley had seen no great threat in relation to 45 and Bodie had concurred but he was still jittery when it came to Doyle’s safety.

Bodie asked “Who are they from?”

The man sensed Bodie’s wariness and said “I don’t know but there’s a card in the basket.” He headed for the door unsure of the reaction he had received and was glad to be leaving.

Doyle muttered, “Thanks.”

Bodie pushed back a piece of the cellophane and pulled a small white envelope from its perch amid pears and apples. He extracted a card from it. He read aloud “With sincere thanks and hopes for a speedy recovery, from Hugh, April and James.” Bodie smiled “It seems you have friends in high places.” He grabbed a handful of black grapes from the basket and put several of them into his mouth. He turned his attention back to his partner. “So what do you fancy, Ray?”

“Nothing at the moment but help yourself because judging by the size of that basket even you won’t be able to polish it off before it goes rotten.” Doyle winced as he moved in the bed.

“It’s a pity it’s not sweets.  Fruit isn’t really my thing”   Bodie replied as he stuffed another few grapes into his mouth. “You got a private room so obviously Cowley is pleased with us. By the way I haven’t seen any of your nurses yet.”

“Don’t bother with the nurses, mate, they all look like they’re retirement age or thereabouts” Doyle answered. The thought went through his mind that he really didn’t want Bodie with any of the females in the hospital or for that matter in the pub or the local shop; or indeed anywhere. He didn’t want Bodie with any woman full stop. Lately Doyle had been having thoughts about his partner that varied from slightly romantic to downright erotic. Even with his side hurting like hell, he smiled at the absurdity of his very heterosexual partner getting romantically involved with him.

“Penny for them.” Bodie’s words broke into his thoughts.

Doyle actually blushed which Bodie noticed but decided must have something to do with the painkillers his partner had been given so he didn’t tease him or mention it.

“Nothing, really, the damn painkillers have me a bit zonked out.” Doyle answered.

    Just then there was another knock on the door. Bodie looked at Doyle who nodded slightly, and in truth, he was glad of any diversion from his thoughts. “Come in,” Bodie called out and added softly to Doyle “It’s getting like King’s Cross in here.” Before his partner could answer the door opened to admit Cowley, Lord Hugh, his daughter and James.  Cowley spoke first. “Hugh, April and James wanted to visit you to relay their thanks I’ve already told them that it wasn’t necessary but they insisted.”

   They crowded into the small room and Bodie stood back from the bed.  April approached Doyle’s bed and gushed “Thank you so much Mr Doyle, I don’t know how we can ever repay you for saving James. My husband, Saul, and I just want you and Mr Bodie to know you are welcome anytime as our guests.”  She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

Before Doyle could say anything, Lord Hugh said “I thank you and Bodie for your courage and cunning and for returning my grandson safe and sound.” He moved forward and shook Doyle’s hand.,

 James came shyly to the side of the bed. “Thank you, Ray, you and Bodie are really brave.” he said softly.

 Doyle smiled “It was our pleasure, James. I don’t think Bodie and I have ever rescued anyone as brave as you.” Doyle held out his hand and James shook it.

Sir Hugh smiled at his grandson. “Your father is so proud of you.” He turned his attention back to Bodie and Doyle. “April and James have decided to spend some time with me while things get sorted out in Altan and before James goes back to school. I think he deserves a few days off.”

   Cowley managed to look stern even as he beamed and Bodie wasn’t quite sure how his boss carried that off. He filed it away to share with his partner later. “Doyle, you’re making a good recovery, I hear.” Cowley said.

“Yes, sir.”  Doyle answered.

Cowley immediately turned his attention to the visitors. “I know Bodie and Doyle appreciate your thanks but I think we will leave now as I am sure you will all want to get back to  your normal lives as soon as possible.”

“Quite right, we shouldn’t keep this young man from his rest” Sir Hugh said as he began bustling his daughter and grandson out of the room.

Doyle spoke up. “Thank you so much for the fruit basket, it was really very good of you.”

With mutterings of “Not at all and many thanks,” the party left the room but not before James had shaken Bodie’s hand.

Cowley popped his head back in the doorway. “There’s a dram of whisky waiting for you, Doyle, when you get back to work and I think a day or two with Macklin wouldn’t go amiss; that was a messy rescue attempt.” He left before either Bodie or Doyle could answer.

   Bodie burst out laughing when the door closed. “Ray, I think that was Cowley’s way of saying good job.”

“I could do with that drink now.” Doyle said as he moved slightly in an attempt to get more comfortable.

Bodie turned serious. “Are you okay, mate?”

“Yeah, just don’t make me laugh.” Doyle replied.

Bodie stayed another hour with Doyle and promised to pick up some clothing and pyjamas from Doyle’s flat. They each held a spare set of keys for one another’s places.  Doyle looked tired, Bodie noticed, as he took his leave of his partner. He couldn’t help feeling that Doyle wanted to say something and he tried to give him time, but after a few minutes he admitted defeat, to himself and left.

Chapter Six

    Bodie rang the hospital as soon as he reached his desk and was told that Doyle had had a comfortable night. He sighed as he replaced the receiver; did bloody hospital staff ever say anything useful? He spent the day catching up on his and Doyle’s paperwork and flirted shamelessly with one of the girls in the typing pool. After work he headed for Doyle’s flat. He threw out a bottle of milk that had a nasty odour coming from it. He noticed there wasn’t much else in Doyle’s fridge and made a mental note to stock up before his partner came home. He found a gym bag in the bottom of the wardrobe and checked out the bottom drawer in the bedroom. Pyjamas, tee shirts and a dressing gown were laid neatly in it. He and Doyle always left their ‘hospital stuff’ as they called it in bottom drawers as it made it handy for the partners to find what was needed for a hospital stay. Unfortunately they had both needed the contents of those drawers far too often for either of their liking. Bodie pushed a well worn pair of jeans, warm cotton shirt socks, undies and a pair of comfortable trainers into the bag; he added Doyle’s electric razor and a few bathroom things  and a couple of towels then zipped it up. He took a look around Doyle’s bedroom. He moved to the living room and went to the stereo. Don McLean’s ‘American Pie’ was the L.P. on the turntable and for a moment he felt a strong desire to move the stylus onto the plastic and listen to the songs his partner had listened to but he didn’t. It was unmistakably Doyle’s home but at the same time, without his partner, it lacked the charm that Doyle was always able to inject into his flats. With Doyle, no matter how short a time he lived in a place it felt like home. Bodie’s flats were always tidy and organized but in Bodie’s eyes, they lacked the warmth and the care-free lived in feel of Doyle’s places. It was funny but Bodie actually felt more at home in Doyle’s flat than he did in his own.  He put the alarm on and left the flat.  He drove to the hospital, stopping in the lobby of the hospital to pick a newspaper and a bottle of 7Up.

    Doyle was awake when Bodie entered his room. “Hi, Ray, did you have any visitors today?” he asked as he put the paper and bottle on the bedside locker and manhandled the sports bag into a small locker on the opposite side of the room.

“Ta, Jax and Murphy dropped by this afternoon.”

Now that Bodie was beside Doyle, he noticed that his partner was very flushed.

 “How are you feeling?”

“All right but it’s very hot in here.”

Bodie leaned over and felt Doyle’s forehead. He was burning up.  “Ray, I’m going to get a nurse, I’ll be back in a minute.”

Bodie returned five minutes later with a nurse. She took Doyle’s temperature and said she would fetch a doctor, as it was quite high. Doyle smiled at her but made no comment. Bodie rooted out a towel from the sports bag and went to the bathroom adjoining Doyle’s room where he held it under some cold water and returned and placed it on Doyle’s forehead. Bodie was now quite concerned as his partner accepted his ministrations without objections and even sighed when the cool towel came in contact with his skin. Doyle’s eyes were glassy and he was becoming agitated, moving restlessly in the bed. The nurse returned a few minutes later with a tall fan on wheels, which she positioned to the left of the bed. Doyle was still coherent enough to murmur. “Thanks”. 

The fan had hardly been switched on when a doctor arrived. He took Doyle’s pulse and asked him how he felt. Doyle answered. “Hot, it’s very hot in here.”

 The doctor told Doyle he wanted to take a look at the wound in his side and he asked Bodie to leave the room for a few minutes but Doyle’s voice was firm as he said

. “He can stay; Bodie, stay.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Ray.” Bodie answered while glaring at the doctor who simply said ‘Fine’, and pulled back the sheet and eased the surgical tape from the dressing on Doyle’s side.

 Bodie could see the wound quite clearly along with the doctor. He didn’t like what he saw. The wound was fiery red and obviously infected. The Doctor applied a new dressing. He gave the nurse a couple of commands and turned his attention back to his patient. “Mr Doyle, I’m afraid your wound is showing signs of infection so I’m going to put you on an IV antibiotic I am  also going to give you something to bring your temperature down and hopefully this will make you more comfortable."

    Doyle was finding it difficult to focus on what was going on around him. The IV was set up quickly. The fan made the room cool but still Doyle’s temperature continued to climb. As soon as the doctor and nurse left, Bodie resumed his place at the bedside. Over the next few hours, one of the nurses and a doctor came and went, checking all the time on Doyle’s condition. Doyle was quite distressed, talking in a frenzied fashion.  The sister in charge suggested to Bodie that he should leave but the doctor agreed to allow Bodie to stay at Doyle’s bedside, as he seemed to have a ‘calming effect’ on the patient. Bodie sat holding Doyle’s hand and it would have taken more than the sister’s objections to get him to leave.

    Doyle was agitated but Bodie’s presence seemed to act like a balm. It was true he was still distressed but somehow he was lucid enough to realize Bodie was there and he gripped on to Bodie’s hand as if it were the only point of reason in a troubled world.

   It was a long night. Every time one of the staff came into the room to carry out their checks, Bodie moved aside and as soon as Doyle’s fingers curled on to nothing, he became upset. It got to the point at about 2 a.m. that Bodie would keep his contact with Doyle no matter how awkward it proved for him and the staff. Doyle began calling out, reliving situations that both he and Bodie had been involved in. Bodie calmed him in a gentle voice while all the while holding his hand tightly. By 3a,m. Doyle appeared to calm down but Bodie realized that was only because he wanted to whisper something to him. Bodie indulged him and leaned in closer.

 “Bodie?” he whispered.

 “Ray, I’m right here” Bodie answered. “Want to tell you something. You can’t hit a man on his sick bed.”

“It’s all right, Ray. Try to get some sleep and we’ll talk tomorrow.”

“No, I need to tell you, just in case” Doyle’s voice trailed off.

“Ray, take it easy you can tell me tomorrow you’re going to be fine, you’re just running a bit of a temperature.”

Doyle’s fingers dug into Bodie’s hand. “I want to be more than a ‘mate’. I want to be yours. I want you to be mine. Do you understand, Bodie?”

Bodie was unsure if he had heard the words correctly. After all Doyle’s voice was low  and fever ridden.  He looked hard at his partner but it was obvious that Doyle’s fever had just broken and he had drifted into sleep. Bodie was utterly perplexed. By 6 a.m. Bodie was dozing with his head resting on the side of the bed and Doyle was gently snoring. One of the nurses nudged Bodie gently on the shoulder. He awoke with a start “Ray?”

“Ray is sleeping soundly and his temperature is normal. He’s going to be fine which is more than you will be after sleeping at that angle. Here, have a cup of tea and after that, go home.” she said handing him a plastic cup containing hot sweet tea.

“Thanks, love.” He took the cup grateful that she had wakened him before he got any stiffer. He tucked Doyle’s hand in under the sheet.  He stood up and took a sip of the liquid. The nurse checked Doyle’s IVs but he didn’t wake up. Bodie stood back from the bed studying his partner. Doyle was beautiful in sleep, the deep rich auburn hair framing his face. Bodie gulped his tea thinking how wonderful it would be to run his hands through that hair and feel Doyle’s lips against his own. He was weary but still his cock responded to his thoughts. Bodie realized he had fallen in love with his partner. The realization was simple and somehow comforting; no one would ever know him as well as Doyle did, and what was more important, unless he was terribly wrong Ray felt the same way about him. Bodie massaged the back of his neck; his thoughts were confused and he was scared, actually scared that maybe in Doyle’s case it was the high temperature speaking and not how his partner actually felt. Bodie knew he would have to wait until later in the day before he could see the truth in Ray’s eyes. He finished the tea and muttered another ‘thanks’ and left the room.

    On the way to the car park he felt alive, he was still tired but thinking that maybe Ray had feelings that were more that matey towards him lifted his spirits.

    Bodie returned home showered and shaved before he headed for work. He had phoned ahead to say he would be late. He had just got a cup of tea in the rec room when he was summoned to Cowley’s office.  Cowley was drinking a cup of coffee when Bodie entered.

“I hear Doyle had a very bad night but thankfully he’s over the worst of it” Cowley said without any pleasantries. “Yes, sir, he was running a very high temperature for most of the night but thankfully he seemed much better this morning.” Bodie replied.

“Ach! I suppose you stayed all night.” Cowley stated

“Yes sir, he was very agitated and I didn’t want him lashing out at one of the nurses.” Bodie replied.

“Well you’re no good to me this morning and luckily for you things are quiet so go on, home and come in tomorrow at eight when I might get some work out of you.”

“Thank you sir,”

“Don’t thank me, Bodie, it just makes sense to have well rested agents working, not ones that look like something the office cat dragged in.”  Cowley went back to the sheaf of papers on his desk.

Bodie went home and fell into a deep sleep peopled with images of his partner in many different positions -  all of them erotic. Bodie woke with a hard on that he had to take care of in the shower.  Hr waited until evening visiting hours before he returned to the hospital. He had fought a battle with himself all afternoon about returning early in the day but eventually common sense won out. Doyle was bound to have visitors in the afternoon and Bodie wanted to talk, really talk to his partner so he certainly didn’t want anyone around for what he intended to say and for what he hoped his partner would reply. Bodie dressed in black trousers and a clean white shirt. He tossed his black leather jacket on and splashed on a bit of Paco Rabanne. He grinned when he realized how nervous he was; it was like a first date with some girl he really fancied except this time it meant something to him.

    Bodie entered Doyle’s room without knocking and found Doyle reading yesterday’s paper, which Bodie had brought him. He looked up and smiled, and for a moment, Bodie wanted to run like hell. He realized the next few minutes would be make or break time for him and Doyle as partners and as a couple.

Doyle must have sensed something because he began to talk nervously. “Thanks for staying last night, Bodie, I don’t remember much of it but I knew you were there. You’re a damn good partner. I ….” Doyle was babbling.

 Bodie interrupted “Ray, let’s cut the crap.” He walked over to the bed, leaned in and kissed Doyle.,

 At first there was resistance on Doyle’s part, but within a few moments he was pushing his tongue against Bodie’s. Suddenly Bodie felt at peace even as a surge of passion took him and he pushed his hand through Doyle’s hair and held him tight against the kiss that seemed to go on for ever. Finally Bodie became aware that Doyle must be hurting so he eased away.

“Jesus! Bodie where did you learn to kiss like that?” a rather breathless Doyle asked.

“I was just about to ask you the same thing.” Bodie replied as he sat down on the edge of Doyle’s bed.

    Cowley found his two best agents giggling like schoolgirls when he entered the room a few minutes later.