hehe lets try this game.

[Spy_Master]

oh dman, I didn't realise that, I guess I read wot I wanted 2 read, damn. um oops
Spy_Master100880

[JJD lover]

it'll be reyt do u wana scrap that bit or shud we keep it n pretend hes dreampt it or summert?

[Mz]

I think it should be up to Jen. Do you want to re-write your bit? Or should the next person say it was Dennis' dream? Your call.

[Spy_Master]

wot bit as Dennis's dream, my bit or Kate's bit, no Kate's bit makes sense and it came first, I'll rewrite my bit no no I won't it'll be Dennis's dream, make him realise who Crawly is or was.

Yeah that's a good idea, my bit will be Dennis's dream, making him realise who Crawly is or was.

Hope the next person pays more attention than I do lol
Spy_Master100880

[Spy_Master]

ok I just cut and pasted all the story that has been written so far into a word document, it makes 7 pages. I'm gonna post it on a page I think so that ppl can read it like without having 2 go through pages of messages. I've just been reading through we have quite a few contridictions that we're gonna have 2 work out b4 it's finished but over all I'm very impressed, when it's finished we'll post it on my fanfic site.
Spy_Master100880

[JJD lover]

ok this is my very short and very sweet piece lol.

Dennis awoke with a jump. He had fallen asleep at his desk, again. He really was going to make himself ill at this rate.

[Spy_Master]

Then he rememberd what it was he'd been dreaming about, he realised he'd made sense of the evidence he had in his head. Cleary or Barton whoever he was had been part of the terrorist group that had stolen the bomb. Obviously not a very close-nit group because they'd left him for dead, he was probably just hired muscle, not the brains of the operation.
Ok he needed to think this through, the group had a nuclear bomb, what were they going to do with it? Where were they going to make their statement? From going to division last night he now knew what they did, not very much. They didn't know what group they were dealing with, so therefore not what targets they would consider worthy. One thing bothered Dennis though and it wasn't not knowing what was going on, it was how they had got out of the plane and how they had made it crash. The survivors of the plane crash had all been interviewed, none of them had known that anything was going on apart from a mechanical failure, so how had they done it. Suddenly Dennis picked up the phone and dialed a number from memory.
"Liz, it's Dennis. Do you know who found that diplomat?" he asked
"I did," Liz replied sounding surprised, "What's this about?"
"Where did you find him?" Dennis asked, he was certain he was close to the conclusion now.
"He was in the luggage bay, the plane had buckled, I guess he'd fallen through, I didn't quite see how but accidents don't have to make sense." Dennis smiled
"Thanks Liz, you've helped a lot." That was it, the diplomat had been in the luggage bay, they'd ambushed him and stolen the case, then parachutes, they wanted to parachute out but to do that they had to get the plane to go lower. Of course it all made sense now. Now all he had to do was find the parachutes and he'd have a starting point, he'd try near where they found Cleary/Barton first.

[KateLovesDennis]

Ok, been a while but here's the next bit.

Dennis got to his feet, he was still tired, he wished he could stay in the office, or better still go home, a though which did not often cross his mind. He took his cap and greatcoat from the hat stand in the corner and opened the door of his office. The short corridor which led to the duty room was empty, at least DI Shiner and his men were all out, the station was far too small to accommodate that number in any comfort.
“Bellamy” Dennis put on his hat and coat. “Get your coat, we’ve work to do.”<br>Phil put down his pen and pushed the papers into an untidy pile. Anything was better than paperwork, with any luck Alf might finish them before he returned.
“Right Sarge.” Phil threw a quick glance at Alf, who returned it with a blank stare, each fully understanding the other with out saying a word.

The moors road was as usual quiet, even the sheep had taken leave of the rough moorland. The crash site was an ugly scar in the stark landscape, despite the best efforts of the clear up team the army had sent, broken pieces littered the dark earth. Merton drove slowly, his eyes scanning the heather.
“What are we looking for Sarge?” Phil asked.
“I’m not sure.” Dennis took a deep breath, he was going to have to tell Phil some if not all of the story. “One of the passengers was carrying a briefcase, he was a diplomat, the case was stolen and that might have been the cause of the crash.” He paused, glancing at Bellamy, looking for any sign that he had fully understood.
“The man who’d lost his hand?” Phil asked after a short pause. “Was it handcuffed to his wrist?”<br>Dennis nodded. He shot a glance at Bellamy, he had gone very pale, looking as though he were going to be sick. Dennis knew that he understood.
“We need to find it, and get it back.” He continued without passing comment on Phil’s complexion. “There has to be some sign, something which will lead us to the trail.” Dennis parked the car at the side of the road. “I think we’ll go on foot from here.”<br>
Two hours later and some distance from the car Dennis was beginning to give up hope. He was tired, physically tired, mentally tired, every tiny piece of wreckage caught his attention but was not what he was looking for. He loved a challenge, loved his job but this was beginning to be beyond the call of duty. His feet and knees ached, the dust of the moors had dulled the shine of his shoes and the heat of the sun was making him thirsty.
“Sarge!” Bellamy called across the few yards that separated them. Dennis covered the distance with long strides, the roots of the heather seemed determined to stop him, catching at his feet, trying to trip him at every step.
“What have you got?” Dennis asked as he drew nearer.
“It’s the briefcase.” He held it up, it had been out in the open long enough for any potential fingerprints to have disapeared. The case was open, the contents missing, the handcuffs dangled from the handle, the loop of the free cuff still locked in the closed position. Dennis tried not to think about the Diplomat. He took the case from Phil and turned it over, the leather outer was torn and the locks had been forced.
“Right, we’ll head back to the station. At least it’s something to go on.”<br>
Liz held open the door of the surgery and bid her last patient of the day goodbye. It had been a long day and a struggle without Jenny, it always seemed that more people fell ill when surgeries, or hospitals for that matter were short staffed. As well as the usual patients in the surgery she had made four house calls, not counting Jenny, spent an fifteen minutes at Ashfordly General checking on the farmer with the nasty burns and an hour helping out at The Royal, mostly answering a barrage of questions from a group of police officers under orders from DI shiner to gather facts about the crash.
Wearily she picked up her coat and headed for her car.

Jenny’s bike was propped against the outhouse wall of her cottage, her husband’s car parked in the drive, Liz smiled to herself, at least Dennis was home. Passing the kitchen window she saw Jenny standing by the cooker, stirring a pan with a wooden sthingy. She tapped quietly on the door and let herself in.
“How are you feeling?” She asked.
“Shh.” Jenny lifted a finger to her lips and continued in a whisper “Dennis is asleep, and I’m fine.”<br>“Good.” Liz had been genuinely concerned for her friend, she rested her hands on the back of one of the kitchen chairs, the rough wool and smooth metal tags of Dennis’ uniform tunic met her touch. “Is Dennis alright?”<br>“See for yourself.” Jenny pushed open the door and nodded towards her husband. He lay on the sofa, flat on his back with his feet dangling over the arm, his shoes lay where he had kicked them from his feet, his tie lay on the floor beside them. Liz glanced at Jenny, she was stirring the contents of the pan. Quietly Liz crept into the living room. Dennis lay on his back, his shirt untucked, the bottom button open, as were the top two, his arms were flung back above his head, the sleeves of his shirt unbuttoned, one turned back, the other flopped over his wrist. His hair was ruffled, his eyes closed. Liz though that he looked very child like, breathing gently in a sleep that came from sheer exhaustion. She was about to return to the kitchen when she noticed something.
Taking a few steps closer she began to worry, she rounded the coffee table swiftly and dropped to a crouch beside the sleeping policeman. She looked back towards the door.
“Jenny?” She spoke quietly but was no longer worried about waking him.
“Mmmm?” Jenny appeared at the door, drying her hands on a multicoloured towel.
“How long has he had this rash?”<br>“He was fine when he got home.” Jenny tossed the towel towards the table and walked swiftly across the room. Liz was right, a fine red rash covered Dennis’s forehead, spreading down his cheeks and flaring angrily on his neck, it showed on the inside of his wrists, there the tiny red dots more densely packed. Frowning, Liz laid her hand on his forehead, tracing a line with her finger tips above his eyebrow.
“He’s very hot.” She flicked open the remaining buttons of his shirt, the rash spread down his chest to the scoop neck of his vest. Without a second thought she tugged his vest free of his waist band and checked his stomach, it too was covered with the tiny red blisters.
Dennis moved slightly, mumbling something as he turned. Liz didn’t catch what he said but a glance at Jenny caught her blushing, she had understood his words and they had been meant for her. Liz smiled inwardly. Dennis opened his eyes, surprised to find that it was Liz with her hand on his forehead.
“Lie still for a moment.” She instructed.
Liz picked up an empty glass from the coffee table, she rolled it sideways over the rash on his forearm. The red speckles faded from view, relief flooded through her, she tried to hide it, to maintain her professionalism.
“Here this might help.” Jenny handed a damp folded flannel to the doctor, who pressed it to her patients forehead.
“That’s cold.” Dennis protested, sitting up and immediately feeling dizzy. “What’s going on?”<br>“Have you taken your tablets today?” Liz was asking.
“Yes, I, I think so.” Dennis was no longer quite sure which day it was.
“Do you know what it is?” Jenny looked at Liz, her eyes full of questions and fear.
“I’m not sure.” Liz bit her lip. “You’d both better stay here, in case its infectious. I’ll got back to the surgery and make some enquires.”<br>

;D over the limit again, so I'll put the rest of it in another post ;D

[KateLovesDennis]

;D heres the rest of it ;D


The phone was ringing as Liz opened the door.
“Doctor Merrick.” She forced a cheerful voice.
“Liz.” Gina exclaimed. “Can you come over to the pub? Phil’s been taken ill.”<br>“What’s wrong?”<br>“He’s feeling faint and has a rash and a temperature.” Gina sounded worried sick.
“I’m on my way.”<br>Liz picked up the bag she had just put down and headed for the door. Perhaps what ever Dennis was suffering from was infectious.

The pub was thankfully quiet. At least there wouldn’t be many people to quarantine.
“Liz!” Gina called from the edge of the bar. “Come upstairs.”<br>“Oscar, can you close the doors and keep everyone here for the moment?.” She asked quietly as she passed him, leaving him wondering.

Upstairs Phil was seated on the edge of the bed, he looked in better shape than Dennis, but had the same bright red rash.
“Let’s have a look at you.” Liz put down her bag and opened it. “How are you feeling?”<br>“A bit faint and very hot.” Phil managed a slight smile.
“Were have you been today?” Liz asked.
“Well, home, the police station, here, oh and out on the moors, near where that plane crashed.”<br>“What were you doing up there?” Liz probed.
“Looking for something, Sergeant Merton had me walking for miles searching the heather.”<br>“Was he there too?”<br>“Yes.”
“And you found the something you were looking for?” She knew better than to ask what it was they had been seeking.
“Well part of it.” Phil frowned.
“And what did you do with it?”<br>“Took it back to the station and bagged it up for forensics, not that they’ll find much the length of time it had been out on the moors.”<br>“Who else was at the station?” Liz took a thermometer from her bag and shook it.
“Ventress. Why?”<br>“Here, pop this under your tongue.” She held out the thermometer. “Just Dennis has exactly the same symptoms, it’s either something you’ve both touched, or you’ve both picked up something infectious.
“Mmmm.” Said Phil holding the thermometer with his tongue, afraid of crushing it with his teeth, a concern he had had every time someone took his temperature since he had been small.
“Let’s hope it’s something you’ve touched.”
“Will he be alright?” Gina asked.
“I think so.” Liz glanced at her watch. “You don’t look as poorly as Dennis. Let me see that.” She took the thermometer and examined it. “High but nothing to worry about.”

Just a few minutes later Liz was back in her car heading for Ashfordly Police station, the investigation team were using the station as their base and someone was bound to be there, hopefully someone who knew some answers.
A sudden thought struck her as she passed the road where Ventress lived. She turned the car around and turned into his street. Parking outside his house she knocked sharply on the door. Alf answered the door himself, he looked a little pale, his hands were bandaged.
“Oh hello Doctor, what can I do for you?”<br>“I think I might be able to do something for you.” She said with a smile, looking down at his hands.
“Oh, it’s nothing, just a bit of a rash, Mrs Ventres has gone to her sisters’ to get some calamine lotion, she always has some in, she gets allergic reactions to all sorts of things.”<br>“I think it’s a bit more than a rash Alf, can I come in?”<br>“Well, alright, I suppose so.”<br>
It didn’t take long for her to establish that Alf was suffering from the same ailment as his colleagues, but in a milder form. Liz was soon heading for the police station. She parked outside and was relieved to see that the lights were on. It felt strange walking into such a familiar place to find it occupied by strangers. The policeman at Alf’s desk got to his feet.
“Can I help you?”<br>“Doctor Merrick, can I speak with the person in charge?”<br>
A few moments later she was facing a plain clothes detective who was sitting in Dennis’ chair, the desk strewn with papers in a manner it’s owner would not have tolerated.

“It’s nothing to worry about.” He assured her. “Just a bit of discomfort, fortunately they didn’t get the full force of it. It’s a powder we use inside sensitive briefcases, if someone forces open the case the powder covers them and a severe rash and nausea develop in a few hours.” He smiled, not a pleasant smile she noted. “Makes them panic and head for the nearest hospital, where we catch up with them. A good night’s sleep and they’ll all be fit for duty in the morning.”<br>Liz was not so sure about his last statement but relieved that it was not something more serious.

[Spy_Master]

when Liz told Dennis what it was, he was relieved but at the same time angry.
"They didn't have the decency to tell us, still it gives us another avenue of enquiry. Though I doubt it will get us anywhere, this was a thouraly professional job.: Dennis commented sadly.

The next day, Dennis till didn't feel at all well but he had a duty to see this case through, he sent Phil to Ashfordly General and went to the royal himself, a decision he was later pleased he made.
"Hello Sergeant Merton, what can I do for you?" Lizzy asked.
"I'm making enquiries about a man who may have come in, suffering acute naseau and a rash. I don't mind who I speak to, anyone who will know." Sergeant Merton told her, Lizzy thought for a moment.
"No-ones come in this way suffering those symptoms, why don't you check casualty, one of the nurses there might be able to help." Lizzy smiled, Dennis nodded in thanks and took off to casualty.

When he got there, the first thing he noticed that was odd was that the door to casualty, that separated it from the rest of the hospital was closed, he tried the handle, and locked, the blinds were also down. Dennis's sixth sense was screaming at him now, something wasn't right. Walking quickly back to reception he asked Lizzy if there was any reason why this would be so, she didn't have one. Dennis called his own station and got DI Shiner, he told him to get an armed team over here pronto, they had a possible hostage situation.

In record time DI Shiner and his team got there, given the current situation at the moment the armed team was already on it's way, normally DI Shiner would have insisted on more proof.
With the adreniline of the moment coursing through his veins, Dennis felt better than ever, he was noticing every small detail. Suddenly without warning a shot rang out. DI Shiner had dispatched his team to evacuate the hospital so there was only Dennis. Nevously DI Shiner cleared his throat, under normal circumstances his orders would be to sit tight and do nothing, to wait for armed backup, but the very possibility that a nuclear bomb could be sitting not 200m from where he stood, would have changed anyones orders or perspective.
"Sergeant, go recon." DI Shiner ordered, Dennis looked in shock at him, but years in the police force and taught him not to question orders, so he did as he was asked.

Dennis crouched beneath the windows of casualty, they were closed and the curtains drawn but the curtains didn't quite reach the bottom of the window giving Dennis a vantage point. What he saw confirmed his worse suspicions. There were five terrorists, no six, one was laying on a gurney looking decidely ill. The other 5 looked in good shape, again Dennis recorded their proffessionalism, like an elite combat unit. Suddenly Dennis felt a chill spread through him, he was certain he wasn't right, but if he was, it just didn't bear thinking about. Who had the most elite combat unit in the world? Whose nuclear bomb was it? And what country would like it? Before Dennis could come to a conclusion that wasn't as disturbing as his first one the window opened and two men grabbed an arm each and hauled him inside.

lol Spy_Master100880

[KateLovesDennis]

Jst a short bit this time

The hands let go of his arms very suddenly, Dennis hit the floor harder than he had expected. The air was knocked from his lungs, his chin hit the floor, jaring his teeth.
His hat rolled across the floor, he watched it, an unsteady wobble as it ran like a bent byclicle wheel. It came to rest against a shiney black shoe that peeked from beneath a long grey skirt. The owner bend to pick it up, a slight female hand lifted it from the floor, he caught a glimpse of a concerned expression on a rather pretty face surrounded by some sort of head dress. A sharp voice, followed by a swift kick in his side, interputed his confused thoughts.
Instinctivly he ran his tongue over his teeth, he tasted blood but all seemed to be intact. He tried to get up but the booted foot moved from his side to rest between his shoulderblades, pressing down on him. The metal buttons of his uniform pressed into his chest and stomach, he became suddenly aware of a sharp pain in his left arm and a mixture of voices above his head. Someone was asking about the patient, not in the concerned manner of a family or friend but a harsh request, pushing the doctor to take action. Dennis kept his face pressed to the cool floor, the smell of disinfectant filled his nostrils, he hated that smell, the smell of hospitals. He hoped that the gang would not notice the fading rash that covered his skin, the same infliction that their collegue suffered from. He turned his head as far as he could, looking at the grey skirt and the shiney shoes, trying to make sense of it. Suddenly he realised who he was looking at, it was a nun's habbit, it must be Sister Bridgid. A familiar voice reached his ears, a calm collected female tone, he couldn't hear her words but he recognised her at once, Dr Weatherill. He held his breath for a long moment, straining his ears to catch a hint of the conversation.

Outside the hospital Dr Ormerod paced the short stretch of pavement between the emergency entrance and the corner of the main road. His medical bag was perched on the roof of his car, his jacket unfastned and his tie loosened.
"Isn't there any news?" he asked DI Shiner for the fifth time in as many minutes.
"Not yet Sir." Siner was getting edgy, what was taking Merton so long. He turned to Bellamy. "Go round the back and find out what your Sargeant is up to, get back here straight away, I don't want any heroics." Shiner scowled "Especially from not from Merton" He added under his breath.
"Right Sir." Bellamy walked swiftly out of the small car park
"We really must get back into the hospital as soon as possible." Mr Middleditch reminded DI Shiner again. "Its our duty to care for these patients." He waved one hand towards the collection of people gathered outside the hospital, most were in dressing gowns, some still in their beds.
"And it is my duty to make sure that this incident is resolved without loss of life." Shiner retorted, instantly regretting his harsh tone. He looked past the agrieved hospital official and was thankful to see Bellamy returning at a run.

"Shut it and stand still" the male voice was harsh.
"But he's bleeding." A female voice with an irish accent insisted.
"Let him bleed." The male was laughing. "He's only a copper."
"If he dies you'll hang for his murder." The irish voice was calm. "You'll rot in hell for all eternity."
"Who says I believe in that hocus pocus?" The man asked.
"Are you willing to take that risk?" She was still calm, very calm and very forceful with her words.
The man considered her question for a long moment.
"If it will keep you quiet go to him." He said after a long pause. "But no funny stuff."
The grey skirt swished over the shiney shoes as she steped closer to Dennis. She dropped to the floor at his side, tucking her legs neatly beneath her so that the skirts covered every inch of them. She bent over him, her hands gently moving his left arm.
Dennis blinked hard, his arm hurt but he could hardly believe he was in danger of bleeding to death. Still he did feel rather faint, the adreneline rush was wearing off and the nauseaus feeling he had had since yesterday was returning.
"Lie still." Sister Bridgid instructed, her voice very loud. She smiled at him reasurringly then looked up at the man who still had his foot planted on Dennis' back. "Would you please take your foot off him?"
"If he moves I'll shoot him, and you." The voice was deep, heavily accented but Dennis couldn't place the country of origin.
"He won't move."She assured him.
The man took a step sideways, waving a pistol in her face. Dennis took a deep breath, his shoulders hurt. The nun was calm, her hands cool as she moved then over Dennis' wrist, she was unbuttoning his the sleeve of his shirt. She lifted one hand to smooth a stray lock of hair which had escaped from the tight band about her forehead. Dennis saw a streak of his own blood on her flesh.


"Bellamy?" Di Shiner called as he approached. "What's happening?"
Bellamy slowed as he turned the corner, not speaking until he was close to Shiner.
"He isn't there." He spoke in hushed tones. "No sign of him, the window is open and they are talking about someone bleeding to death."
"You couldn't see in?" Shiner enquired.
"The curtains are shut."
"I see." Shiner looked back at the small group of armed police who waited by thier van. "The rest of the backup should be here soon, we'll go in as soon as they arrive."


Sister Bridged leaned very close to Dennis, her eyes fixed on the red rash that covered his wrist, the same rash that covered the man on the table, but less intense. She cupped her hand over the small cut on his forearm, just above his watch strap. She cast a swift glance at the intruders, the terrorists were all at least a few feet from her.
"There are five of them, all armed." She whispered, her lips so close to his ear that he could feel her breath on his neck. "This isn't life threatening." She added reasurringly. "They are threatening to shoot Dr Wetherill if she doesn't help him. He's very ill, what they'll do if he dies, I don't know."
"There's an armed team on the way." Dennis breathed in reply, hoping that she would hear him but that his words wouldn't reach the gunmen.

[Spy_Master]

That's not a short bit it's a long bit, just not as long, this is a short bit.
Spy_Master100880

Sister Bridget nodded, letting him know she understood. She then stood up and moved over to the second exam room, the terrorist watching Dennis didn't try and stop her, there wasn't anything she could do after all. She came back with everything neccesary to stitch Dennis up.
"Now this is going to hurt." she told him, Dennis nodded, he didn't care anymore, he just wanted out of here, he didn't want to play hero, DI Shiner could do that if he wanted, Dennis just wanted to go home.

Meanwhile outside Gordon was starting to get worried, Jeff was on holiday with his girlfriend Lucy so Jill would be the only doctor in the hospital meaning she would be in the thick of it. If these badly trained imeciles went in firing then she could easily get hurt, in fact any of his colleagues could. Gordon didn't want that so he decided to do something about it, not be a hero or anything, just get Jill out of the firing line, he knew this hospital better than any of them, all he had to do was to get in and that wouldn't be difficult, the window in his office had a loose catch. Then all he'd do was to go on down there, walk in and be shocked, he'd been in his office asleep and hadn't known, get Jill out of there and warn everyone else about the imbeciles coming to save them.

[Spy_Master]

well this has fizzled out again, I'll have 2 post some more and run the risk of getting arrested lol
Spy_Master100880

[KateLovesDennis]

I'm still waiting for Dennis to arrest me from the last time I broke the rules.

I was working on the next bit for this one but I've been so busy with work and other stuff which people tell me is important that I haven't got it finished yet.

[KateLovesDennis]

Ok here's the next bit.


Sister Brigid resumed her possition beside Dennis, as she took his hand he saw that she had something concealed from view. Her dark eyes met his, wordlessly communicating that she had a plan. She knew that she had to get him out of casualty, get him back to his men with vital first hand information of the situation. She leaned close to him.
"I'll get you out of here." She breathed.
She held the suchers with practiced fingers, Dennis gritted his teeth as she worked to close the cut, no doubt caused by the buckle of his watch strap, it was little more than a scratch, two stitches would be more than adequate. Dennis watched the dark clothed men, committing as much detail as he could to memory, one tall, slim, dark hair, he was the one with the unusal accent, the leader. The man next to him was stockier, a few inches shorter, curly brown hair and a moustashe. He couldn't see much of the man on the table, Dr Weatherill was bending over him, giving a running commentary which, thankfully was keeping the terrorists enthralled. The other two had their backs to Dennis, both had dark hair, one shaved into a crew cut, the other was fashionably long over his collar, the first was slightly built, the other carrying a few extra pounds, but both gave the impression of military bearing and overall fitness.
"Oh dear Lord" Sister Brigid cried out. As Dennis looked up at the shock on her face, he became aware of a cool sticky wetness on his wrist, flowing over his hand and soaking into his uniform, the nun winked ever so slightly, a movement that noone but Dennis would see. He looked down at his arm, blood was gushing onto the floor, flowing in a pool that was now running along his side, being absorbed by his tunic.
"What's wrong?" Dr Weatherill's voice reached his ears, a calm voice of authority.
"Doctor, he's loosing a lot of blood, I can't stop the flow. He's loosing conciousness"
Dennis took his cue from her words and tried to relax, closing his eyes to the narrowest slit.
"You carry on with him." The terrorist with the accent commanded.
"If he's loosing that much blood he'll soon die." Dr Weatherill was firm but Dennis deteched a hint of panic underlying her calmness. "Let me help him, please."
"No." The terrorist was firmer, Dennis caught sight of his gun as he lifted his arm. The plan, what ever it was wasn't working.
"Well at least let him leave. My collegues can help him."
The leader of the villains crossed the floor with three long strides. He nudged Dennis with his foot.
"Leave him be." Sister Brigid's accent grew stronger as she snapped at him. The booted foot took a step back, the imprint of the sole clear on the floor in blood. Sister Brigid looked at it and in a split second made a decision, she moved, flicking her skirt outwards so that the next bloodied footstep left the print on the fold of the fabric.
The tall man looked at the large pool of blood on the floor. "He's dying." Sister Brigid pleaded. "Let me take him to the operating theatre, I won't say a word to anyone, I promise."
"You talk and you'll be the one who's dead." The terrorist waved his gun in her face. "Get him out of here."

Sister Brigid got to her feet, keeping her hand cupped over Dennis's wrist. She turned him onto his back with the ease of an experienced nurse and grasping his other wrist with her free hand she dragged him slowly across the smooth floor, leaving a thick trail of blood on the white tiles. The stocky terrorist opened the door a crack.
"Get back from the door or I'll shoot." He called out, waving his gun into the empty corridoor. "Get out." He snarled at the nun as she dragged the limp body of the police sergeant through the open door.
"Sir!" a voice called in panic from the end of the corridor.
"Don't move or I'll shoot." The terrorist threatened, pointing his gun at the bobbies helmet that had appeared at the corner. He watched until the nun had reached the corner, leaving a bright red streak the length of the passage, then he closed the door.


"Doctor, get a doctor." The young policeman shouted turning to face the nun and his injured collegue. Around the corner Dennis got to his feet, Sister Brigid slid her hand over his as she released his wrist.
"It's alright." She assured him as Dr Ormerod ran as fast as he could, sliding on the polished floor, arms out stretched for balance, his doctor's bag hitting the wall as he fought for balence. At the far end of the corridor a number of faces looked on with shock, DI Shiner and Mr Rose rushed forward to help.
Sister Brigid gathered up her skirt, carefully preserving the footprint.
"It's not his blood." She explained, turning her wrist to reveal a plastic tube dripping blood. "I'm afraid I deceived them, it's only tomato sauce mixed with water." She explained appologetically as they walked back to the ambulance entrance.

Outside Dennis perched on the low wall, his uniform dripping what looked like blood onto the pavement, DI Shiner quizzed him over the scene inside while another detective dealt with recording the footprint captured by the quick thinking nun. Mr Rose lit his pipe and commented on the inginuity of their escape to anyone who was listening. Gordon listened to the first part of Segeant Merton's description then slipped away from the gathered crowd.