Following the demise of an agent some months ago, Cowley has a vacancy to fill
Bodie and Doyle sat in front of Cowley that morning in eager anticipation of their next assignment.
"Henderson, do you know him?" Cowley asked his agents – although he knew the answer to be 'no'. He liked, occasionally, to give his veterans the impression that just sometimes they may know more than the Controller. But they needed more information.
"A DS from the home counties – James Henderson."
The blank look from his agents told Cowley that Doyle had not come across this particular copper.
"He is to join our elite little band. I want you to go to his digs in Barnes and bring him here for a debrief."
Cowley handed his agents the address and a photo from the file in front of him. Doyle was itching to have a peek inside that personnel file, but knew it would be kept – with all the others – in a strictly controlled safe.
The agents chatted amiably in the car on the way to Barnes. This was not a usual assignment – neither agent had ever been required to chauffeur around a new recruit. They wondered what was special about him. Was he one of Cowley's pet projects? They entered the block of flats, the security door having been left ajar. They had expected Henderson to be waiting for them by the front door, but he was nowhere to be seen. The lift was out of order so the agents started to climb to the fifth floor to give Henderson's doorbell a good bashing. On the way up they saw the lift doors jammed open, probably the cleaners or engineers. They continued on their way and were just turning onto the next staircase when Doyle was jumped from behind. An arm whipped around his throat and a hand grabbed his hair. A leg entwined around Doyle's in an effort to get him off balance. But Doyle was good, and even this unexpected attack was defended swiftly and expertly. Bodie stood to one side, confident that his partner would get the better of the man and all would become clear. He would intervene if necessary, but it didn't take long for Doyle to have his attacker subdued. The man turned towards them and, surprisingly, shook his head in disappointment.
"Sloppy, gentleman, very sloppy." The man then held his hand out and introduced himself as Henderson. "Maclin's a mate of mine and has no doubt said to you guys that you can get very sloppy and complacent over time."
The agents glared at this cocky upstart. They wondered if Cowley was also a "mate" of Henderson's. They marched in moody silence back downstairs and to the car. Henderson was not making a good first impression with them. On the way back to HQ they received an emergency call. Doyle took up the radio as Bodie was driving; Henderson in the back, still smirking. The call was a general emergency for any agents in the area to help out the local police in an incident at a warehouse. The coppers believed that the gang were armed and needed expert back-up. Doyle informed HQ that they were in the area and, now, on their way to assist. Henderson noticed that Doyle checked his gun and then, silently, Bodie handed his gun over to his partner for checking. They were a pair; a well oiled machine. Henderson would do well to observe them. Look, listen and learn.
It only took them a few moments to arrive at the warehouse. The man in charge, Detective Inspector Brown, met the car as it made its discreet entrance into the grounds. The inspector brought them up-to-date. They thought there were perhaps four men who had been trailed to this warehouse after a break-in at a printers, but the unarmed pair of officers doing the trailing felt that they couldn't take them on on their own.
"Leave it to us," Bodie said confidently. He turned back to his passenger and said, "You'd better stay here. Cowley wants you in one piece and we don't want you falling over your feet. Leave it to the experts."
The pair got out and were not surprised to hear the car door being slammed petulantly as Henderson traipsed behind them. It was their turn to smirk. They entered the building cautiously, guns drawn. The pair noticed that Henderson, too, was also armed. That was a relief as they didn't want to have to babysit him in a tight situation. They circled round and soon had three men in their sights. They left them to their casual talk and their cigarettes, while they looked for any additional comrades. Finding none, it was three against three. Good odds. Doyle turned to his partner and nodded. Henderson noticed the telepathy again. Bodie drew his gun quickly and yelled "Freeze!". Doyle instantly dropped to the ground in case any bullets came his way. The gang scattered. As they hadn't taken shots, the agents shouldered their guns and headed after their quarry. It was clear that – contrary to the police belief – they were not armed after all. The gang were good street-fighters and there was a lot of rough stuff once CI5 had caught up with them. Doyle got the better of his man just as Bodie hurled his opponent to the ground. Doyle helped out by throwing himself towards the man to give a karate chop across the neck to ensure that he didn't get up again soon. As he began to rise he felt a body behind him. Doyle, quick as a flash, grabbed blindly for the man behind him and hurled him quickly over his shoulder. He knelt again to deal the karate chop, but stopped midway when he realised that the man he had thrown was, in fact, Henderson. Bodie of course had seen, as he had a front view of Doyle's 'attacker'. Henderson shouldn't have got so close when an agent's blood is still singing in his ears. But he let Doyle get on with it. That would teach Henderson to call them sloppy! The man himself got angrily to his feet, dusting his trousers and trying to staunch a nosebleed he'd received earlier from one of the gang members. Bodie tried not to hide a grin on his face as the pair headed towards the door to report back to the inspector. Bodie got a fit of mischievousness and veered off as Doyle continued on his journey. Bodie hid behind a crate just as Henderson quickly turned the corner, heading for the same exit. Bodie shot out his foot and Henderson, in full flight, went sailing head over heel into a pile of coal dust which had been shuffled into a corner at some past time. Before Henderson could gather himself and his dignity, Bodie strode over him shaking his head.
"Sloppy, Henderson, very sloppy."
On leaving the warehouse Bodie heard the end of Doyle's report, and coppers were already entering the building having been told that it was safe to do so. Doyle gave a brief nod to acknowledge his partner's presence and finished his report.
"Sorry to have got you in on this," said the embarrassed inspector. "But one of our lads got it in his head that at least one of the gang was armed. I intend to find out where he got that pretty idea from." Embarrassment was turning to anger.
"Oh don't worry," Bodie interjected, "we enjoy a bit of rough-and-tumble."
Doyle patted the inspector's arm sympathetically, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, don't fret about it. If you're ever worried again give us a call."
The three men got back in the car and resumed their journey back to headquarters. Henderson kept a moody silence in the back, still trying to get dust off his trousers and blood off his torn shirt. His nose was still dripping.
The agents raced up the stairs at HQ, knowing that Cowley would not be pleased at having been kept waiting. The three turned up – all of them looking like tramps who had spent a night on the tiles. The two veterans were aware that a small earthquake was rumbling under the Controller's desk. This would turn into an exploding volcano pretty soon. They had been required to simply bring Henderson to the Cow pronto. Just a simple job. But all had not gone to plan. They looked at each other, and then looked at the wreck that had been Henderson. Again the telepathy was at work. As of one man they bolted out of the office, leaving Henderson to deal with the volcanic explosion as best he might.
"Bodie! Doyle!"