Bodie and Doyle had their boss with them on this assignment. It was the culmination of months of hard graft trying to get a lead on Coulson and his gang and bring them to book. Cowley wanted to be in on the 'kill'. They parked up carefully at an old warehouse where the gang were last seen. The three got out silently and went hunting. The four-man gang however had a look-out who raised the alarm and had the mob running in all directions. The CI5 men set off in pursuit, belting over the uneven ground and vaulting over debris. They weren't going to let this one go. Their hackles were raised and the adrenaline pumping, like well trained gun dogs who'd scented their prey. It was what their life was all about. Bodie was off round the corner in a moment, Doyle and Cowley taking the other side of the building. As Doyle was gaining on one of the gang, he heard a grunt and a thud behind him. It was Cowley. Doyle instantly turned and ran towards his boss, the battle forgotten. Bodie went on ahead, oblivious to the drama nearby.
Doyle had assumed that Cowley had fallen over something, but as he reached his boss and his expert eye raked over the man he realised that he was probably looking at a heart attack. Doyle loosened Cowley's shirt and tie as he anxiously scanned the horizon for trouble, but there was little else the agent could do until the battle was over and he could get him to hospital. Already the Cow was losing colour, his wet face ashen. He was gasping for air and clutching his chest as though that would ease the agony there. As Doyle began to take his jacket off to make his boss more comfortable he caught movement over to his right. He reached automatically for his gun but, for once, he wasn't quick enough. The gun skittered from his hand as fire shot down his arm. He rolled instinctively as another bullet sought him. He scooped up his gun as another bullet ricocheted off the tarmac close to his head. As he rolled, he fired. A yell told him that he'd hit someone, and an exchange of fire in the distance told him that Bodie was being kept busy at his end, too. Doyle dragged himself back to his casualty. The Controller was fighting for breath and consciousness.
"Hold on sir," Doyle urged, not sure that his boss could hear him. His stomach tied in knots. He'd never seen the Cow like this – vulnerable. Doyle felt so helpless.
"Find him," Cowley urged, anxious that they shouldn't lose Coulson now that they were so close to success.
Doyle wasn't sure that the villain he'd picked off was Coulson or not. He hoped so for Cowley's sake. Feeling a little more secure, but worried about Bodie, Doyle got up slowly and cautiously. He had a deep flesh wound and was in a lot of pain and bleeding freely. His head was reeling.
"Careful laddie."
But Cowley's whispered words were lost in a roar of firepower. Unseen, Doyle's sniper had regained enough of his senses to retrieve his gun, and time enough to take careful aim. It was Coulson himself. Doyle yelled as the bullet's impact flung him backwards. He fell backwards across the Cow's legs. His hand convulsed on the trigger as he fell. It was a lucky shot. Coulson looked surprised as a bullet made a neat bindi on his forehead. He would be of no more trouble now to the Controller or any other authority except, perhaps, the Highest Authority of all. Cowley, barely conscious himself, reached out instinctively for his agent. Doyle made no move as the Cow's hand became saturated in his agent's blood.
"No lad," Cowley murmured with infinite sadness as he saw blood from the first wound merge with the second.