Hiya ^^ Well, I'm a GREAT fan of 'Life On Mars' and 'Ashes to Ashes', so I've made my own series, set in 1987, which I have called 'Time Will Crawl'. It's, you know, same storyline, good police officer goes down, Gene hunt appears. Anyway, it will be set out in sort of episodes, in parts. Part one, now, part two, probably tomorrow. anyway, heres' part one - please R&R - ^^
DI Charlie Reed drove her sleek black car through the murky, dismal streets of the London suburbia. Her radio crackled in it’s holster that was fitted into her car. A voice cam through.
“DI Charlie Reed, come in DI Charlie Reed…”
She picked up the radio, and held it up close so she could speak into it.
“This is DI Charlie Reed, report.”
“This is PC Boleman, report, hostage taken at gunpoint, crowds present, armed response are on their way.”
“Okay, so, why do you need me? What about DS Riley, can’t she handle it?”
“No ma’am, she’s on leave. But there’s one other thing.”
“Yes?”
“He asked for you by name, ma’am.”
She stayed silent for a few seconds, then replied
“By name? But, who is he? Do I even know of him?”
“Suspect target Frank Dylan, that’s all I’ve been told, that he requested you by name.”
She waited a moment, thinking things through.
“Okay, thanks.”
“Ma’am.”
He said, before going out. She grabbed the siren, placed it on the roof, and sped to the location that was now being explained through the radio.
The crowds were barely being held back by the ‘Crime Scene’ tape, but the Constables were just managing. Charlie’s car sped round a corner, avoiding a skid on the wet puddles, and halted. She got out of her car, and walked up to a PC.
“ DI Charlie Reed, any news? Is it definitely him then? I was told he asked for me.”
The PC looked round, and nodded. “Yes, ma’am, it’s confirmed, Frank Dylan, criminal history for small time burglary.”
“Okay, Thanks. Excuse me, coming through, thank you…” She said, as she waded through three or four rows of crowd.
She ducked under the tape, and jogged around the corner. Frank Dylan was holding his hostage at gunpoint on a fire escape, fitted in to a tall red-bricked building. The steps that led up to it were wet from the rain that had been pouring for hours. She gazed up at him, holding out her ID.
“Frank? I’m DI Charlie Reed, I believe you asked for me?” She shouted.
Frank looked around for a second, before her eyes rested on her.
“Ah, it’s you. You don’t look much different, you have his eyes. And possibly his hair.”
“Frank, I’m afraid I don’t quite follow. Please, let the poor hostage go, let’s talk about this. We are both… well, I’m a responsible adult, you’re an adult, that’s all I can be sure of.”
He laughed.
“Oh Charlie… You don’t get it, do you? You’re still so much the same.”
“Frank, I think you’re confusing me with someone else, but please, just stop this, let the woman go!”
She shouted. Frank pressed his gun a little closer to the woman’s neck, causing her to whimper.
“Shut it, I don’t think you’re supposed to talk, Charlie. Now, I think if you don’t want to spend the rest of your wages paying for this woman’s brains to be cleaned of the wall, I think you’d better give me what I want, don’t you?” He snarled.
Charlie tensed.
“Please, Frank, there’s no need for this. If you want something, we can discuss it… this woman has done nothing, to deserve this. You think you need something, or you have problems, if you want to get something, this is definitely not the best way to go about it. If you surrender now, you might stand a small chance in court, but Murder, or even Attempted Murder serves a long time in prison. Just think!” She said.
He hesitated, before saying something in a quiet tone of voice.
“Charlie. You thought you could hide, you and your secrets, well not anymore, because I have the greatest weapon of them all. I know you.” He spat. Before she had any time to reply, a gun shot echoed through the air. The woman collapsed, a bullet hole through her brain and her blood pouring out and mixing with the rainwater. The crowds were heard screaming, even though they didn’t know what had happened.
Three police officers and five armed response units came charging round the corner, accompanied with two paramedics, just in case. Whilst they took care of everything, she went after Dylan.
At the top of the fire escape, she saw Dylan running down the end of a corridor. She charged after him, her breath propelling her on, her body fuelled by adrenalin. Her feet thudded against the floor as she charged towards the corner. She turned and ran through the door that was ajar, the only door he could’ve taken.
It lead to a staircase, which she bounded down, three at a time. At the bottom of the first flight, there was another door, slightly ajar. Through the small window, she could clearly see him at the end of another corridor.
She ripped open the door, and stepped inside. As soon as he saw her, he ran through another door. She felt no need to run. She knew that as soon as he went through that door, he would run straight into the arms of an officer. As she neared the door, she froze, her face going pale, as another gunshot rang through the air, coinciding with a mangled scream.
She swung open the door, and almost tripped on the body of a PC, who had now a bullet through his head. Rage filled up inside her, and she bounded after Dylan, taking her gun out of it’s holster, and loading it. She went to run around the corner of a building, but as soon as she did, found herself staring down the barrel of a gun. She stopped immediately, her hands in the air.
He slapped the gun out of her hand, kicking it away, still holding the gun to her forehead. He grabbed her arm and shoved her through an open door. She found herself in a cold, dark, warehouse, with the only light coming in from dirty windows right at the top near the ceiling.
She could hear her breathing, the slapping of their feet on the floor, and nothing else. He shoved her into a corner. She whimpered, wondering if she would make it out of here alive. Before she could say anything, Dylan cocked his gun. She whimpered again.
“Well, Charlie, I think it’s the irony that chuffs me. After all these years, it’s me, who finally has you as my captive.”
Before she could ask what he meant, he aimed the gun, and pulled the trigger.
The bullet sped towards her chest. It ripped through her skin, puncturing her left lung. The impact jarred the windpipe, and displaced the right lung. Blood poured from the wound, but she was un conscious. She was almost dead. Frank laughed, then left her for dead.
To be continued…