Bodie was on night surveillance with his mate. He was in a deep sleep snuggled in his sleeping bag while Doyle took his shift at the window with the binoculars. They were on the look-out for a suspect who'd been lured (they hoped) to the address opposite via an undercover operation. Bodie didn't know what exactly had woken him; nothing sudden, just a gradual seeping of something in his subconscious which demanded his attention. He looked into the darkness and listened to the silence, allowing his mind and imagination to wander, as he did on such occasions. He wasn't alarmed, just curious. Then he had it. It was his mate's breathing. Not the regular breathing of one in a deep sleep (though Diligent Doyle should be watching not dozing) but the jagged breathing of one in pain. Bodie slowly rolled his head towards the window. Doyle was intense at his observation post but Bodie knew his mate well - both in mind and body - and there was something tense and unnatural about his pose. Doyle was aware of someone watching him and he slowly turned towards his partner to see a pair of worried eyes gazing back at him from the sleeping bag on the floor.
"What?" Doyle asked softly.
"You all right? You don't sound it," Bodie whispered back.
"Bit of a headache that's all." He turned pointedly back towards the window.
Bodie was instantly concerned. There'd been some hand-to-hand stuff the previous afternoon and Doyle had rolled down the stairs with his opponent. There'd been a sickening crunch of skull on baluster, but Doyle had managed to get up and floor the man with a karate chop across the back of the neck. For reasons the CI5 agents had never established, an ambulance had turned up at that moment and Bodie had insisted that Doyle be given the once-over by the doctors.
"Since when?" Bodie asked now.
"Stop fussing."
"Since when?"
Doyle sighed and knew he'd get no peace. Bodie had emerged from his sleeping bag and was now towering over his partner.
"I took some aspirin this morning when I woke up, doctor. Felt fine till after lunch then we got stuck here all afternoon and into the bloody night. Is Fitch going to ever turn up?" Doyle returned to the binoculars, hoping to divert Bodie's scrutiny.
"Don't pretend you can see a hand in front of your face, Doyle," Bodie glowered.
"The doctors gave me the all clear if you remember."
"I admire your blind faith mate."
His anxiety was making Bodie tetchy. He took the binoculars off his partner. At that point Doyle tensed. Though no longer in possession of the bins, he could see a figure slinking across a garden, vaulting a low fence, and into the next garden. That was not normal behaviour. Even Bodie had forgotten his medical practice for the moment as he tensed, binoculars glued to his eyes. Doyle was reaching for the radio as Bodie focused on the suspect.
"4.5 - I think we've got a bite."
Alex hissed back an acknowledgement. He and his mate were waiting in an alley, keeping watch at ground level.
"Come on," Doyle whispered, pulling the blanket from off his shoulders. He'd been slowly freezing to death by the draughty window, clocking off the hours. Murphy's Law, Doyle thought, that just as it was time to snuggle into the sleeping bag at the change of watch, Fitch turns up.
Bodie followed his mate, still concerned. They met the other pair of agents, by prior arrangement, in a side alley opposite the house under surveillance. They agreed a plan of action. As they closed in on the house, Bodie found himself next to Alex and far enough away from Doyle that he could whisper.
"Keep an extra eye on Ray. He had a bad knock on the head yesterday. Still reeling."
Alex snorted and turned a smile to his colleague. "Yeah, if you'll keep an eye on David. He went swimming in the canal this morning and has been throwing up ever since."
"Great!" Bodie snarled sarcastically. "We only need someone with a wooden leg and a cough and we'll be complete!"
Alex smiled and said nothing further as the agents crept across the road in the darkness.