Bodie and Doyle had been chasing round the warehouse for hours. Finally they'd got one of them and had been chasing another pair up to the top floor. Finally they got the better of them. But when they tried to work their way down, they were cut off by smoke and flames. They were trapped. The fire was caused by the gang they were trying to bring in. Bodie wondered how they had got themselves into this situation.
"There's got to be a way out. There's just got to be," Doyle cried as he looked down – a long way down – to the concrete yard below.
It was too high for them to jump down. Smoke was coming up the stairs.
"Any bright ideas?" asked Bodie, who was scouting around himself.
"It's a no win situation, isn't it?" said Doyle to his military partner.
"My SAS mates wouldn't accept that."
"Well we could do with some of them right now. Where's Cowley when you need him?"
"Face it, mate, we're on our own in this."
"I'm not ready to accept that," Doyle was getting angry and frustrated. It stopped him from being scared.
"So flying in the face of all the facts and logic. Is that your answer Doyle?" Bodie was working himself into anger to stop being scared too.
Doyle knew his partner to be right, but he just wasn't ready to face the no-win situation yet. He never would be until it was too late. He took a glance over to his partner, and was about to say something, when there was a huge bang. A wall, or something, had fallen. Dust and smoke billowed up the stairs. The men refused to look at each other. They knew they shared the same thoughts, the same fear. The cavalry was not about to arrive. They continue to pace, keeping away from the stairwell, and close to the open windows. But the smoke was coming in from outside and beginning to choke them.
Eventually Bodie said "We had a scenario like this in our SAS training. We had to decide whether the leader of our unit would cop it, or whether the leader would sacrifice some of his men for the greater good." Doyle waited. It wasn't often that Bodie spoke of his past. "If the leader made a stand and he bought it, then the unit would be without a clear line of command. If he sacrificed some of his men, he could risk losing the confidence of the others. A no-win situation in itself."
"If the leader went first," Doyle speculated, "I can't see the others running round like headless chickens."
"The SAS do not employ headless chickens," Bodie snapped.
Doyle looked at his partner and raised an eyebrow. He was glad to get one over on his mate. A grin slowly slid across his face. Bodie's anger melted.
"OK, you've got me," and a smile was returned.
The tension had been eased a little.
"What would your police mates do in this situation?"
Doyle wasn't sure that Bodie was really interested in an answer. They just needed to keep talking, to keep walking, to deflect the situation.
"We didn't go in for the big psychological tests, like you guys did. Perhaps we need to these days with what we have to put up with now. With what the police have to put up with," he corrected.
Another part of the building collapsed. They weren't sure how much time they had left. If the floor they were standing on where to give way they weren't sure if they will be killed in the fire or killed by the fall itself. The outcome would be the same in any case. Bodie just hoped and prayed to a God he didn't believe in that it would be quick whichever way it went for them. They were finding breathing difficult now, so they stopped their conversations. It was hard to keep walking. The smoke was blinding them. Then out of nowhere sirens were heard. Hope leapt from the flames like a Phoenix. They had to believe that the sirens were for them. They had to believe they were no longer on their own. They moved as one accord to the window. The smoke blinded them from the scene below. But they heard the sound of engines. They heard brakes screaming. The wail of the sirens drifted up to them like hope. The building was quite large and they needed to draw attention to themselves so that the emergency services wouldn't waste time trying to find them. Doyle took his jacket off and waved that frantically. But with all the smoke it was a forlorn hope, as he knew it would be. They tried yelling but their voices were hoarse and dry from the smoke inhalation. They scouted around desperately for something to lob out of the window. They knew there was nothing. They had paced up and down for hours. They knew every speck of dust in the damaged room. Short of throwing themselves out of the window, there was nothing. They looked at each other desperately for inspiration. They didn't know how many vehicles had turned up, or what services were involved. They assumed, hoped, that all the emergency services had been thrown at the problem. If only they could see what was going on down below and if anyone could see them. They tried yelling again because there was simply nothing left to do. They were relieved when they heard a ladder being put up against the wall. It was too far from their window, but enough for a fireman to hear them and perhaps see them waving. And so it proved. The fireman quickly went back down, and realigned it. The lads were over that ladder in a second and down in a few seconds more. They were coughing and spluttering, their eyes streaming. They were coated in soot and looked like dejected tramps. Inevitably, one could say, Cowley was at the scene and looking anxious and efficient.
"Haven't we enough to do without rescuing our own agents?!" Cowley growled gruffly. "Come on, get yourselves sorted, then we can get on with the real work." He turned on his heel and disappeared amongst the myriad of vehicles, hoses and men.
Bodie and Doyle stood there for a moment, then looked at each other - each sharing the same thought - and a smile was mirrored in each of them. Cowley, too, had his own way of dealing with fear.