Wild is the Wind

Patterns

Part 1

"My name is Hailey Clarke.

Wait, no. It's WPC Hailey Clarke now.

I severly injured my head in London 2010 and woke up in 1982.

I wake up every day wondering if I'm mad or that metal bar put me into a coma, I don't know. But everyday, for some reason, I feel like this world is becoming more and more like home to me, and I have less and less intention of getting home.

Back to December 31st. 2010"

I silently pressed the button on the tape recorder and sighed.

"2010. Bloody hell. First Sam Tyler, then Alex Drake and now you. Is there something about me that attracts loons?" Asked a deep voice from the door of the interigation room.

"Do you really want me to answer that question, Guv?"

"Fair point. Don't even go there. Do I have to remind you again how you got here, because it seems that you always fail to remember it."

"If it makes you happy, Gov" I said, finishing the last of the Scotch from my glass.

DCI Gene Hunt smiled. He walked over and poured more of the sickly alcohol into my glass and found one for himself, noticably more full than mine. I laughed. Typical Gene Hunt.

"Now you know I hate to be nostalgic but it's always nice to tell a story when you've just kick ten pints of shit out of a couple of murdering Pickies"

He drank from his glass and began his story.

"Now, after Sam Tyler, I started to understand that he was telling the truth about where he came from. And I'm starting to believe this a similar situation happened to Bolly. So, I'll start with you're explaination as Chris so boldly told me with your permission..."

University is never that fun really, even if you're studying something that you have a lot of interest in. Like Amanda has a lot of passion for wanting to beat up most of the suspects that are dragged into the Metropolitan Police Station. She's only a DS. DS Amanda Clarke. Or my passion for Psychology and Biology. I'm 28 and I'm still living with my sister. Still sitting on the sofa, looking hopelessly at paper and jobs. Amanda comes home at exactly 8pm and never fails to add to the smell of Scotch that invaid the flat.

"Try harder and you'll get a job" she said to me, walking into the kitchen and returning with a bottle of Scotch and two glasses. "And if it helps Superintendant Hunt will make you a PC if you're lucky"

"Well thank-you, I'll keep that in mind" I said absently, looking at the papers again while drinking the Scotch.

Her mobile made the most terrible of noises as her ringtone for the holier-than-thou Hunt played.

"Sup"

"Since when do you answer the phone with 'sup'?" Mr Hunt's voice appeared through the phone.

"It's Hailey, that's why. What do you want, Gene?"

"Well, Jack, seeings as you asked so polietly, I'd like you and your boney-arsed sister to go undercover for us."

"Again with the boys names? And why me?"

"Well you're the only trained Psychiatrist..."

"Psycholgist"

"...that I know" He finished ignoring me.

"Sure, but why me?"

"Just put your lovely hi-tops on Alfie, and don't ask questions"

The phone went dead.

I sighed and tighed the laces tighter on my long, black converse and pulled my sister out the door. When the arrived at the station, we were greeted by DCI Carling.

"Bet Hunt didn't bother to tell you any details did he?"

"Nope" I smiled. "Would you care to tell us?"

"We go to Kingston Road where Tucker is hiding. If Amanda tells you anything then you'll knew that he's behind the..."

"Murders of Mick Richards on Grosvenor Road, Colin Brake on Lordship Lane and then most recent Jackie Rayner on Trinity Road"

"Well done, she does tell you stuff."

"No, I'm reading it off the map that's cellotaped to this board. It looks to me that the murders are in a cross and usually the pattern shows where the base is...but the map shows that the base is...right here..." I said absently, pointing all over the map behind me.

"But that's not possible. Are you saying that whoever is responsible is here in this building?"

"What? Of course not."

"Oh"

"I'm saying there is a high chance that they might be...or...below this building. Are there any cellars or a basement in this station?"

"Yeah, but only Hunt's got the key..."

"Well go and ask him for it!"

"...except he lost it in a card game one night a couple of months ago..."

I was getting frustrated now. I hurt when my foot collided with Ray's desk.

"WELL WHO HAS IT THEN?"

"I dunno. Could be one of four people. Hunt, DC Adams, DS Clarke and me...although, come to think of it it's only two people because Hunt doesn't have it and neither do I..."

"Ok, what does this key look like?" I asked, fingering the necklace.

"Well, if I remember correctly, it's silver and has a weird symbol thing on the back. It kinda looks like a pornographic but that quite pornographic thing..."

"Like the one around my neck..." I said absently, turning the necklace over to find a small butterfly/dick shaped thing.

"What?" asked Ray, looking at the necklace and noticing the symbol and, judging by his face, thinking nothing of it.

"I said, like the one around my neck" I said louder, stepping closer to ray so that he could see the pornographic-looking butterfly/dick. And he gasped.

"Ok, when you two have stopped staring into each others eyes, we have a murder to catch, question and beat the hell out of. Raymondo, any clues telling us who his next victim is?" asked Hunt for the doorway.

"Well all evidence so for leads to a 'Lewis Collins'."

"Um, Gene? Can I ask you something that you probably won't do?"

"You're good at wasting my time, Charlie, I'll give you that. Continue"

"Well, if you look closely at this map, the murder locations are North, South, East and soon West of one point..."

"Which is?"

"...which is this Police Station, Superintendant"

"What are you suggesting William?"

"That you send some unifrom and a couple of officers to Kingston Road to deal with Tucker and the rest of us go the basement and see if his base is there..."

"You can't go to the basement, you don't have a key!"

I simply held up my necklace. "Amanda hates carrying keys"

"...alright. But how would Tucker get in?"

"Gene. He's a criminal, there are a million ways to brake into that place..."

"Go on then, name 'um."

"No, just listen to me for once Gene. He might be there"

"Alright fine. Uniform, DS Clarke and myself will go to Kingston Street. You and Raymondo can play the heros of 4am" He replied, looking at his watch to check the time.

"OK whatever."

"Oh, and James? Untuck your trousers from your hi-tops, would ya?"

"Not a chance" I answered, dragging Ray out of the office.

"Ok, which way is the basement?"

"Left out of the room and down the stairs"

"Gotcha" I responded, grabbing my sisters gun from her desk and anwered Ray's questioning look with "It's ok, I'm not gonna use it. It's just incase"

The basement was cold this time in the morning and the only sound was the soft footsteps of myself and DCI Carling. As my fingers touched the rusting banister of the last flight of stairs, I was shivering uncontrollably.

"Stay calm, Hailey"

"Helpful words Raymondo" I whispered.

"Indeed they are, but DCI Carling is gonna need even more helpful words judging by the gun pointed to his head."

I turned around to face Ray with a gun being pointed to his head.

"I suppose you are in need of introductions? I am Paul Tucker. And you are DS Amanda Clarke?"

"Um, no. I'm her sister"

"Oh, so it's Hailey Clarke. I used to know a Hailey Clarke. She actually worked here. Oh well, bye bye WPC Clarke."

"What?..." I didn't have time to ask because my words were stopped by a heavy metal bar colliding with my skull.

I'd have thought with the shear force of that metal bar, I'd have waken up with the worst headache imaginable, if I'd have woken up at all. And I was surprised because I did wake up, but there was no headache. No injuries. Nothing. I don't know where I was. I was lying on the cold floor if that helped. With police officers everywhere. Maybe Gene and the uniform had found me. But what about Ray? Where was he?

"Ray?" I shouted, getting to my feet. I shook my head at the thought of them shooting him. I looked at my surroundings and to the floor. I looked at my feet, black converse as usual. But they were longer than usual, they were nearly up to my knees and they were under black skinny jeans. Nothing unusual there. Although, I don't remember wearing braces and a plain white t-shirt. And so many chunky bracelets. My hands flew immediatly to my neck. The key was missing.

"Raymondo. If you don't mind, we have a suspect over there that's looking utterly bewildered" A familier voice broke my confusion.

"Yes Gov. You, Madonna look-a-like. What your name?" DCI Carling asked as he walked over to me.

"Ray..." I said, absently.

"Yeah that's me. DI Carling. what's your name?"

"Oh my god, I thought they'd shot you" I said relieved and I hugged him.

"Um, ok. Well, no-one was shooting. There was a bomb, massive explosion. Although, I noticed you were hit over the head with something massive..."

"A metal pole. They whacked me over the head with it. He was there, he was going to shoot you...wait a minute. Did you say DI Carling?"

"Well don't sound too surprised"

"No, it's not that. It's just...you're DCI Carling...unless I've...if you're DI, then that means..."

"That I'm Decective Inspector, yeah. Well done div, now we need to take you down to the station."

"Oi Hi-tops! You better co-operate!" roared the familiar voice again.

"Oh, shut up Gene Hunt. Always were fiery and impatient." I muttered. "Now, if your a DI, Ray, that means that this...HOLY CRAP, WAIT A MINUTE. WHERE IS THE NEAREST NEWSPAPER?"

I looked around for a newspaper stand and finally found one but all the press and passers-by. I ran to it and picked up a newspaper.

"May 23rd 1982...1982...1982, I was born in 1982. What the hell is happening? This isn't right, none of this is..."

I took my oppotunity. Ray was staring at me with a look of pure confusion. Gene had given up asking the prossy what she was doing and had started walking over, followed by officers and uniform. But that didn't stop me running.

I knew they were after me. Ray, Gene, multiple members of uniform. I just needed to run. 1982. May 23rd. I'm not even born yet. Why did I come back to this time? How did I come back to this time? Converse were easy to run in and I knew London well, having lived here all my life and I knew shortcuts because of running with Metropolitan Police on more than one occasion. So, where could I go? Nowhere but the station. I knew the way, oddly well.

I ran through the doors, closely followed by Ray and Gene. Obviously, Gene knew I was running here and asked uniform to get his car. His beloved Quattro. But suddenly I stopped. It all looked so different. The walls weren't they're usual colour and the desks were mixed up instead of in perfect lines. I walked slowly up to the office infront of me, just as Ray and Gene walked through the doors. My pace quickened until I ran towards the door. I should have read "DCI Raymond Carling". But no. This was 1982 after all. It read "DCI Gene Hunt".

"Now come on, don't make me hit you. We just need to ask you a few questions about today. can you do that for us?"

"Sure, Superin...um, DCI Hunt."

"Good, Raymondo, lead her in, would you?"

"Sure Gov"