Between partners.
The mug of coffee that Bodie cradled in both hands had long since gone cold reminding him of the bitingly cold April wind that had whistled around the building for the past few days. He stood at the window of the restroom at C.I.5's headquarters staring out onto the bleakness of the gardens below that still waited to feel Spring's warm touch.
How long had it been now? Two days? Two days and still no news of Doyle's whereabouts. The longer it went on he knew the outcome didn't look good. His captors would have tortured him for the information they sought and then killed him, not that they wouldn't have done that anyway even if he had told them everything he knew.
Bodie turned wearily away from the window. He had barely slept, barely eaten since Doyle's disappearance. He couldn't help a wry smile. Bodie not eating? That would have amused his partner. Partner. The word stuck in his head for a moment. When, in the two years they'd been together, had he allowed Doyle to cross over from being someone he just happened to work with to someone he now considered his partner and more than that, his friend? He hadn't expected that or wanted it from the outset but somehow the curly haired chap had wormed his way into his affections. Bodie smiled again.
"Bodie!"
The sudden urgency in the cry brought Bodie sharply from his thoughts. He bolted from the room towards George Cowley's office knowing instantly that there was news. He had waited so long for it that now, for a brief moment, he was scared, scared by what Cowley might be about to impart. As he neared his boss's door it flew open and the man rushed out, his hastily grabbed coat flung over his arm.
"They've found someone! Come on!"
"Someone?" Bodie was confused. "You mean Doyle?"
"They don't know. A man's been found in woods near Slough badly beaten up."
"Slough? But that's nowhere near where Doyle was last seen." Bodie prickled with annoyance. "Surely they know if it's him! I mean how many blokes are there with huge green eyes, a scar on his cheek and a mass of curly hair?"
Cowley felt his agents frustration but refused to be drawn in. Instead he forged ahead along the corridor and down the stairs into the car park.
"We'll take my car." he told him briskly, the keys already in his hand. "The man's been taken to the local hospital."
"What makes you so sure it's Doyle?" Bodie queried as his boss turned the car out of the car park and into the traffic.
"I'm not but this man's been shot and that's not something that happens a lot in Slough. It's worth a look."
Bodie wasn't so sure but as they had no further leads to go on there wasn't much else he could do but accompany Cowley to the hospital.
With his hands tied behind his back Ray Doyle had had little chance of breaking his fall when he'd felt himself being forcefully pushed from the back of a moving truck. He'd fallen into the moist loam of the woodland floor on his injured shoulder and passed out instantly.
When he began to come to again it took him a few seconds to realise he was no longer at the mercy of O'Dell and his accomplices. He had thought he would die at their hands as they meted out their torture but now it seemed as if this would perhaps be his final resting place;not that he had any idea where he was but this place was dark and silent and its coldness now seemed to seep into the very soul of him. He couldn't imagine how he was going to be able to get out without at least some kind of help. Every muscle ached and he could barely see out of one eye it was so swollen. Weakened by the loss of blood from the bullet still lodged in his shoulder he hadn't the energy to even stand and so he waited and before long he was lost to the world again.
Doyle woke slowly in response to a gentle warmth that had begun to revieve him, a harsh light seeming to burn his eyes when he'd attempted to open them. There was suddenly noise and strange but familiar smells all around and he felt as if he was moving, being pulled along and then a hand came to rest lightly on his arm.
"Can you tell me your name?"
Disorientated and suddenly frightened he made a futile attempt to move. Where was he? Where was O'Dell? Was he here? Doyle began to panic.
"O'Dell?"
"You're in hospital, Mr O'Dell. You're quite safe now." the voice was quick to reassure. It waited, hoping to settle the man and it did to some extent but Doyle was still agitated. Hospital? He breathed a sigh of relief, his wits slowly returning. So he had been found, he was safe, away from O'Dell's beatings. He suddenly started to panic again. Hospital? That meant it was only a matter of time before Bodie and Cowley would be notified and arrive to find him. He knew it was ridiculous but Doyle didn't want anyone, especially them to see him, not like this. He didn't care that his face was cut and bruised, that his eye was barely visible, that his shoulder ached with unbelievable pain but he did care that they didn't see... Doyle shuddered at the memory of O'Dell moving towards him with a pair of scissors.
"So, pretty boy," he'd leered. "Tell us what we want to know or you'll find all those pretty curls on the floor."
By not struggling Doyle had tried to give the appearance of not caring what O'Dell and his cronies did to his hair as he sat tied to a chair but he had cared. He'd cared more than he had ever thought he would about something so unimportant given the grave situation he had found himself in. And so they'd chopped large chunks of his hair away and he'd watched helplessly as his locks had tumbled to the floor. The sharp blades of the scissors caught his scalp several times but still he refused to tell O'Dell the information he held.
"Please try to calm yourself." the voice broke through Doyle's thoughts. "You're in hospital and are about to go down for surgery. You've a bullet in there that needs to come out."
Doyle tried to breath deeply against the pain but it was more than he could bare and he let consciousness drift away from him.
George Cowley moved swiftly along the hospital corridor, Bodie barely a step behind him.
"You've had a man brought in with a gunshot wound." he said to the receptionist.
" You are?"
"George Cowley, his boss."
Bodie leaned across the counter. "This man, has he told you his name? Has he got curly hair?" he demanded, unable to withstand the suspense much longer.
"When he came in he was unconscious but no, he hasn't got curly hair. I saw him myself, it's not often we have gunshot wounds here. If you'd like to take a seat I will see if there is any more information on him. He was being taken down to surgery."
Both men turned away from the desk. "Aw, come on Sir!" Bodie exploded. "It's obviously not Doyle! We're just wasting our time!"
"Maybe," Cowley replied thoughtfully. " But I'm not going until I'm sure. Even if it's not him this man has been shot and how many people turn up shot in Slough these days? Next to none."
"But that's nothing to do with us, it's a job for the local police." Bodie insisted. "Come on Sir, we should be back at base trying to find Doyle." Bodie turned on his heels and started off down the corridor hoping his boss was behind him. When he became aware that he wasn't Bodie twisted around mid step. He caught sight of the man disappearing into the waiting room and he tutted loudly in annoyance, cursing the fact they had used Cowley's car. If he'd brought his own he could be half way back to London by now.
They had barely sat down when a doctor approached them. "I'm Dr. Fraser. You're the friends of Mr O'Dell?"
"No, not us." Bodie told him sighing at length and glancing around the room expecting someone to show an interest. He wrinkled his brow when everyone stared back at the doctor blankly. Cowley shifted in his seat. "O'Dell, you say?"
"Yes, he came in with a gun shot wound and has been badly beaten up. Says his name is O'Dell. That was all we got before he lost consciousness again."
Bodie suddenly caught his boss's train of thought and the two men looked at each other. "It might just be a coincidence but if that's O'Dell..." Cowley pondered.
"...then where the hell is Doyle?" Bodie finished.
"This O'Dell, where is he now?" Cowley asked, getting up.
"Just about to come up up from the operating theatre."
Cowley produced his identification card. "I know this is highly irregular," he told the doctor "but I need to see him to know one way or the other if this is a man we are actually persuing. From the description he doesn't appear to one of my own agents that we are also trying to locate."
"I see." Dr. Fraser studied the I.D card and then the anxious faces of the men before him. "Follow me."
Dr. Fraser lead them to the lifts. " Mr O'Dell has been X rayed and there are no broken bones. Apart from the gunshot his other injuries look nasty but are superficial and he'll make a full recovery."
"More's the pity." Bodie muttered.
"He was in a highly distressed state when he came in. I thought at one point we would have to sedate him."
"He'll be more than distressed by the time I've finished with him if he's done anything to Doyle." Bodie murmured, following Cowley and Dr. Fraser out of the lift and along the corridor.
"Bodie! Cowley hissed to silence his operative.
Outside the glass fronted operating theatre Cowley and Bodie stared into the room trying to make out the figure lying on the bed surrounded by machinery,surgeons and nurses.
"Dear God!" breathed Cowley, as he realised it was his missing agent.
"Christ!" Bodie's breath left him and he gasped for air. He couldn't make out much of the man's face so beaten and swollen as it was but it was his partner alright. "It's D...Doyle."
For a long moment no one spoke and it was the doctor who broke the silence first.
"So this isn't Mr.O'Dell?"
"No, this is one of my agents, Raymond Doyle. He's been missing, taken by O'Dell."
"I see. Well, as I said he was in rather a confused and agitated state when he first came in but he's in good hands now and I don't expect any problems. He won't be conscious until the morning so I suggest you both go home. You look like you could do with a good nights sleep. If one of you could stop at reception and fill in some details about your Mr Doyle I would appreciate it. Now, if you'll excuse me..."
"Yes, yes of course. Thank you, Doctor."
Bodie seemed riveted to the glass. "Why did Doyle tell them his name was O'Dell?"
"I don't know but you heard the doctor. Doyle was in a bit of a state to say the least when he came in." Cowley turned away. "Come on, lets go home."
"I think I'd like to stay, Sir."
"And do what? Sit and wait? You can do that at home as well as catch up on some sleep. We'll come back in the morning when Doyle's awake. Come on." Cowley urged, already striding away. Bodie hesitated staring back through the glass as his unconcious partner was being prepared to be taken into recovery. He sighed and followed his boss reluctantly down the corridor.
Doyle fought against the almost overwhelming weakness he felt as he began to come round from the anaesthetic. He knew he should have felt relief at having come through the surgery alive but it did little to settle him. Summoning what little energy he had he gingerly pulled his hand from under the blankets and raised it as far as his shoulder. He hesitated not knowing why he felt such trepidation. He'd known his hair had been cut, seen the curls litter the ground under O'Dell's gleeful gaze yet still the fear of what he must now look like clung to him. Doyle drew a small but painful breath and willed his fingers to continue. They lightly touched his scalp as they explored a different landscape than they had been used to. The soft loose curls had largely gone to be replaced by large areas of bare scalp and he winced as he came into contact with the open wounds caused by the scissors blades.
Doyle's fingers lingered over his swollen painful eye and then down his bruised and battered face. He felt suddenly small weak and helpless. Drowning in self pity he felt a lump coming to his throat and he closed his eyes wondering if it would have perhaps been better if O'Dell had killed him after all.
Bodie had been surprised to find that he had indeed actually slept albeit not for very long. He was out of bed and down stairs to the telephone the second he woke and only allowed himself to relax a little when he'd made a call to the hospital to learn of Doyle's condition. The surgery had gone as well as Dr Fraser had anticipated it would and Doyle was expected to regain consciousness within the next hour or so.
Meeting Cowley in the hospital carpark the two men made their way along the corridor towards Doyle's room. When Cowley stopped at the nurses station for an update on his operative Bodie wandered up to the door and peered in through the small window. Doyle lay half propped up against the pillows with his eyes closed.
Bodie was aware of Cowley at his side and he pushed open the door and followed his boss in. At the sound of their approach Doyle stirred and tried to offer both men a smile. Bodie grinned at him.
"My God, mate! I thought you were ugly before but that takes the biscuit! You'll never get any girls looking like that!" He pointed at the sparse remains of Ray's hair.
Doyle felt the weak smile slip from his face and was mortified to feel tears spring suddenly to his eyes. He turned his head a fraction and caught the eyes of Cowley.
"I...didn't tell them... anything." he uttered.
Cowley lay a hand on Doyle's arm. "Aye lad, I know you didn't. I don't want you to worry about that. You just concentrate on getting yourself better, do you hear? We'll leave you to get some rest." He squeezed Doyle's arm reassuringly and shot Bodie a look of utter dismay before turning away from the bed. Bodie hovered in indecision for a moment. He would have quite liked to stay and talk to Doyle but his partner had already sunk back into the pillows and closed his eyes. Instead he followed Cowley from the room. As soon as the door closed behind them Cowley swung round to face him.
"My God, man! Just how insensitive can you be? What the hell's the matter with you? What sort of man are you? After all the man's been through did it not occur to you that he was in need of some support, some comfort from you?"
"Yeah, but it's Doyle, Sir," Bodie was confused. " I mean that's what we're like... you know...messing about... it's what we do, between us, between partners. Doyle knows I was only having a joke."
Cowley stared at him incredulously. "Did it look to you as if he was in the mood for joking? I sometimes wonder what the hell goes on in that head of yours, if indeed anything does." Cowley turned on his heels and stalked off down the corridor leaving Bodie staring after him.
Bodie drifted absent mindedly into the kitchen and filled the kettle. He barely remembered the drive home. Only afterwards did he wonder how he hadn't killed anyone. All he had seen was Ray's face, the tears resting in his eyes threatening to spill over. A face so badly beaten, the bruises were now starting to turn an array of vivid colours. And his hair hacked about that he was barely recognisable. 'God only knows what the rest of him looks like' he thought as he dropped a tea bag into a mug and added the boiling water. Cowley's disturbing words swirled around in the background of his thoughts. 'What sort of man are you?'
Bodie carried the mug into the lounge. What sort of man indeed. Not a very nice one. The sort of man that didn't deserve to have Ray for a partner that's for sure. He had to admit that even after two years together he was finding this 'partner stuff' difficult. Yes, he could back Ray up in a fight should the rare occurrence arise, defend him if he felt Cowley was being particularly hard on him but when it came to emotional support well, that just didn't come naturally. It never did. So when a situation came up when Ray needed a bit of sensitivity, a bit of understanding and encouragement Bodie had responded in the only way he knew how, with a tirade of abuse however well meant its intention.
Bodie settled himself into a chair. Ray knew he had only been teasing hadn't he? Like they always did? Bodie frowned. Judging by the look on Ray's face, obviously not.
Something else began to eat away at Bodie. He remembered how he'd been fairly certain that it wasn't Ray that had been found and he'd tried to persuade Cowley not to go to the hospital. Once there he'd still pestered his boss to go home when it seemed the description of the man brought in didn't match that of Ray. Cowley was the head of C.I.5. And how had he got there? Because he investigates all the evidence thoroughly, thought Bodie, and leaves nothing to chance
Stirring the last of his tea distractedly Bodie knew he needed to change. The two most important men in his life deserved better from him. He didn't much like himself at the best of times, now he didn't think he could feel much worse.
It was late evening and visiting time was over, Bodie knew that. He also knew this would, therefore, call upon all his considerable charm to sweet talk the nurses into letting him in to see Ray. But, as it turned out, it wasn't needed. Bodie's reputation had gone before him.
"You must be Bodie." the young nurse stated as Bodie had arrived at her desk smiling and flashing his blue eyes.
"And you must be..." Bodie leaned across the desk a fraction to view the woman's name pin. "Angela."
"And what can I do for you?" Angela enquired knowingly but even as the words left her she knew they were the wrong ones.
Bodie's eyes glistened. "Oh Angela, if you only knew what you could do for me right now."
Angela rolled her eyes as another nurse, Alison, joined her at the desk. "He said you'd be like this." she said.
"Who?" Bodie's brow furrowed.
"Ray." Alison replied.
"He did? He's obviously feeling better."
"He is. He also said you'd try to sweet talk us into letting you see him even though it's past visiting time."
"So you're not going to let me then?" Bodie put the best look of disappointment he could muster on his face.
The two women looked at each other. "Only if you promise not to tire him or get him over excited. He needs his rest."
"Excited? I'd say you'd be the best people for that don't you? You two could cause him to relapse." Bodie wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and turned towards Ray's room. He glanced in through the window. Ray was almost dozing, a paperback book hanging loosely between his fingers, his left shoulder heavily swathed in bandages. He looked different somehow. Bodie could just make out the edge of a tray lying on the bed. Pushing open the door Ray lifted his head to give Bodie a wide smile.
"Visiting time is over," he informed him.
"I know. You've got a bit of a fan club going on out there." Bodie jerked his thumb back towards the door as he came to perch himself on the edge of the bed.
"Alison and Angela? They've been looking after me. Anyway, where have you been? I thought perhaps you'd have come this afternoon." Ray chided him gently.
"Oh, you know how it is. Cowley's been keeping me busy." he lied. Cowley had dismissed him for the day.
"Any news on O'Dell?"
"No, mate but we'll get him. It's only a matter of time. So, how are you?"
"Better after some sleep and a good meal." Ray nodded towards the tray.
"What was it?" Bodie picked up the fork and pushed it through the remains of gravy on the plate.
"Don't know for sure but it was very welcome. Can't remember the last time I had a meal."
"Me neither." Bodie murmured to himself, and then there were a few moments of silence before he looked his partner in the eyes. "Look mate, about earlier..."
"Forget it. My head was all over the place. Things seemed...I don't know... bleak...very dark." Ray watched the consternation cross Bodie's face.
"I know this is going to sound stupid," he continued, pausing to wonder if this was something he could tell Bodie without ridicule, "but out of all the things that O'Dell did to me the worst was him cutting my hair."
"It's not stupid, mate. Your hair is part of you, a part of you that makes you you." Bodie's eyes skimmed around Ray's head. "Perhaps I'm getting used to it but it actually doesn't look too bad now."
"One of the nurses, Alison, tried to tidy it up a bit. Anyway, it's only hair, it'll grow back."
Bodie took in the swollen eye and the many cuts and bruises to Ray's face. "Christ Ray, why didn't you just tell O'Dell what he wanted to know?"
"Then he'd have killed me straight away. I figured if I held out as long as possible I might find a way to escape. Strangely though, the more of a beating he gave me the more determined I was to keep silent. No one does that to me and gets what they want."
Bodie gazed at him in admiration. He had one hell of a partner! Ray shifted in the bed awkwardly. "So, did you bring me any grapes?"
Bodie pursed his lips together and shook his head.
"Flowers? Books? Magazines? Not even a newspaper? You're hopeless!" Ray exclaimed as Bodie had shaken his head at each word.
"I know. Do you need anything from home? "
"What, like a hat?" Ray grinned at him.
"You said that, not me. Anyway, I didn't think you had any hats."
"I don't. I'm hoping to be out in a day or two but you could bring in my overnight bag... you know, the one already packed in case we work away. It's in the bedroom."
Bodie nodded. "Anything else?"
Ray breathed deeply. "You couldn't ask the nurses if they've got a mirror could you? I think I need to see what I look like. I wasn't quite ready to when Alison was..." he trailed off pointing to his hair.
"Are you sure?"
Ray nodded silently. Bodie studied him for a moment and then left the room. His partner seemed in a better frame of mind but he had to admit he'd been surprised at Ray's apparent attachment to his hair. Bodie himself didn't much care what he looked like but Ray obviously did and not in a vain way either. The new and improved Bodie would have to be mindful of that from now on.
Bodie returned to hand Ray a small mirror. "Courtesy of the girls, oh and they want me gone in five minutes or they are threatening to do something nasty to me with a scalpel without anaesthetic!"
Ray smirked and held up the mirror. He knew what to expect when he looked at his reflection and it didn't come as a shock. Alison, ,he decided, had done as good a job as she could given what she had to work with. The various cuts and grazes that criss crossed his face would heal in time and there were none so deep that they'd leave a scar.
Bodie's eyes never left Ray. He watched his clear green eyes flicker over the battered face as he viewed himself in the mirror and then dare to raise his gaze to the reflection of his hair. Bodie saw a faint smile from him as Ray brushed a hand over and through his shortened locks. There was a barely perceptible nod of the head from him as if he had put the matter to rest with himself. Tiredness began to creep over him.
"Alright?" Bodie enquired, taking the mirror from him and setting it down on the bedside table. Ray nodded and laid his head back against the pillows, his eyes beginning to close. Bodie took it as his cue to leave.
"I can hear scalpels being sharpened so I'd better go. You look like you could do with some sleep so I'll see you tomorrow."
Bodie wasn't sure Ray had even heard him. His partner lay motionless with closed eyes. Bodie felt suddenly drained himself, a mixture of exhaustion, relief and hunger. He lingered for a moment to stare down at Ray with obvious pride.
George Cowley had stood at the door to Ray Doyle's room, his hand resting on the handle ready to enter. He had paused to peer in through the small window. His wounded operative had been sitting up in bed smiling and laughing clearly being entertained and amused by Bodie. Watching the pair Cowley wondered if he had been too hard on the lad earlier. He'd had friends and close colleagues himself throughout his career and knew how strong the bonds were that tied them. He didn't doubt Bodie's loyalty and commitment to Doyle. Lord knows that had been more than evident in the days following his disappearance but the man's thoughtless and inappropriate banter had appalled him at the time.
Cowley watched Doyle settle himself into the pillows, beginning to drift off to sleep. He was about to turn away from the door when he gasped in sudden surprise. Bodie had leaned forward and, with a brief and light touch of his lips,had gently brushed them across Ray's forehead as he slept.
'Well!' thought the Scot 'there's hope for the lad yet!' As he moved away from the door smiling to himself he heard it open softly behind him.
"Hello Sir. If you were hoping to see Doyle he's asleep."
"Ah, Bodie. How is he?"
"Much better. He's hoping to be released in a day or two."
"Is he indeed? That is good news." Cowley rested an arm around his agent's shoulders. "I hear there's a pub just around the corner. Care to join me for the odd wee dram of scotch?"
"Do they do food there, Sir? I'm starving."
"Och, I'm sure they could rustle you up something." Cowley chuckled.
"Then lead on, Sir!" Bodie's tiredness evaporated as he fell into step beside his boss.