The paramedics dashed up the stairs with their stretcher following Doyle's call for help. Bodie was left in the underground car park guarding his prisoners until his slothful colleagues decided to turn up to cuff the suspects – those who were still alive – and then he could go and see how Doyle was getting on. He was barely conscious when Bodie had left him to fend for himself in the pantry. Bodie heard the sirens and hoped that it was the ambulance arriving. He waited some more, and finally his colleagues arrived and he could at last find out about the important stuff. He ran outside to see a stretcher being wheeled out of the building with Cowley and the police fussing about. He rushed over and saw his friend strapped down and bundled up in red blankets.

"He mumbled about chocolates," the doctor smiled at Bodie. "He must be hungry."

"Chocolates? He doesn't like chocolates," Bodie returned, confused.

The doctor shrugged. "Well, that's what it sounded like. Could have misheard. As you can see, he's not exactly with us at the moment."

Doyle was barely conscious, his face battered. Bodie didn't like to speculate what was going on under the blankets. However he stopped them loading their casualty into the ambulance and leaned forward, his face almost touching Doyle's. There was something going on here that he didn't understand. Subconsciously he stroked his friend's neck.

"Ray," he said softly but firmly in his ear, "what's this about chocolates, eh?"

"Sir," insisted the doctor, "he's in no fit state …"

But Bodie shrugged him off. Doyle stirred and his good eye tried to open.

"Bomb. Ch, choc …"

"chocolates?"

"box."

That seemed to be as much as Doyle could manage. He shuddered and gasped as a wave of pain swept over him. Although his friend was in obvious distress, Bodie felt that Ray was trying desperately to tell him something important. He squeezed Doyle's shoulder for more information then felt a firm restraining hand on his arm across the stretcher. He looked angrily into the doctor's eyes. The doctor reciprocated. Fortunately Cowley came on the scene before the row turned physical.

"What's this?" Cowley asked curtly.

"Doyle murmured something about a bomb and a chocolate box."

"I wouldn't believe the garbled words of a dying man," the doctor snapped harshly.

"You'd rather several people lost lives and limbs would you rather than risk that you might be wrong, and he," pointing to Doyle across the blankets, "might just be right?"

"Bodie," Cowley admonished, "I don't think all this shouting is helping Doyle one bit. He needs medical attention, and now. We can debate this later."

Bodie's anger was borne of fear for his friend. Somewhere in his subconscious he'd registered the doctor's: "… words of a dying man". Before Bodie could process his emotions and information, Cowley demanded a report. The doctor took the opportunity, while this maniac was distracted, to quickly bundle the stretcher into the ambulance. As it headed off at a great rate, Bodie dragged his mind back to Cowley's question.

"I think we should call in the bomb squad just in case," Bodie suggested.

"I was just about to, but thought I'd better waste time first calming you down," Cowley said pointedly and was pleased to see that Bodie looked chastened.

"Sir," Bodie muttered, hanging his head and kicking the dust about distractedly.

The block of flats was evacuated and sealed off as they waited for the Army to arrive with their technical team.

"Why would they want to bomb an empty flat?" Bodie asked while they waited.

"To get rid of any evidence perhaps?" Cowley suggested.

"All very premeditated. Why not just set fire to it? It'd be quicker."

"I'm sure you'll enjoy asking the survivors – there were one or two weren't there?" Cowley asked innocently, and was pleased to see Bodie looking a trite embarrassed despite a grin beginning to form.

"One or two, yes sir."

Eventually the Army arrived and two of their brave engineers went upstairs to have a look at Doyle's chocolate box – should one exist. CI5 would look pretty stupid if it didn't. Cowley and his operative stood apart from the others outside. As the engineers came down and spoke to their comrades, Cowley and Bodie noticed a frisson of excitement among the men. They walked over and were told that there was indeed a chocolate box on the floor of the lounge. They were treating it as suspicious and were going to send a robot in to open it up.

Nothing happened for a long while and Bodie was continually debating with himself whether he was more use here or at the hospital. He concluded depressingly that his presence wasn't essential anywhere at the moment. Just as he was going to suggest to Cowley that he go to the hospital, there was a controlled explosion. A window shattered and smoke poured out. An onlooker screamed and there was a general intake of breath from the passers-by and residents who'd gathered for a free show.

"He was right," Cowley muttered more to himself than to Bodie. "Even half asleep, he can still be right." Cowley was unaware of the broad smile on his face as he said it.

Bodie felt proud of his partner and would report it back when he woke up.

"Sir, if I'm not wanted here, can I go to the hospital?"

"I'm surprised you haven't gone already," came the unexpected reply.

Grinning, a relieved Bodie took that as a 'yes' and gunned his car to the hospital. The doctors told him that Doyle had several broken ribs and were concerned about his kidneys which had taken a severe battering. Bodie took up his vigil by Doyle's bed. This was indeed where he was wanted.