Life is good. I mean it's September first and I'm not in school, in fact it's ten AM on September first and I know I don't have to be in school for a whole week. Instead I get to hang out at Scotland yard pretending to be a detective. How cool is that? I love sixth year, this whole work experience thing is the best.
For a week I get to experience being a police officer and for the hour I've been here it's been a good experience. All they seem to do here is eat donuts, drink coffee and make fun of some guy called Johnston. I love it here. This is so my future profession. To make my perfect position even better they have stuck me with the most beautiful man on earth, Donovan Clarke. He's a plain clothes detective (which he seems quite proud of), twenty-six and tall, dark and handsome. And he's a bit of a flirt, so I just sit, eating donuts and getting hit on by England's closest thing to superman. Mwahaha.
"So we have people profiles," Super-hot Detective Don told me and I made interested 'uh huh' noises, "That basically means that we draw up an idea of what the perpetrator might be like and we investigate the people who match that description. For example if its something like make up stolen from a chemist we'll assume the suspect will be early to mid teens, female and-," I couldn't have cared less. He has fantastic cheekbones, really defined. "But if a car is stolen at night we'll assume late teens, male, possibly with past driving offences-," The phone on his desk began to ring, he apologised and answered it with a stern, super sexy, "Donovan Clarke, who's speaking?" The conversation was short and Donovan barely contributed, he just stuck with things like "uh huh… hmm… yes of course… yes… uh huh." When he'd hung up he grinned at me.
"You're going on the field," He stood up, "Grab you're jacket, and follow me,"
I pulled on my coat and followed. He didn't drive a police car, but he did drive a car that screamed "undercover officer", it was a long, square, navy beast of a car. He unlocked the driver side and slid in, he had to lean across to unlock the passenger side. When he had I crawled in beside him and tried to arrange my thighs in an attractive manor. It didn't really work but the effort was there.
"So how come you don't have a partner?" I asked still twisting my legs about awkwardly, he started up the engine and shot me an amused sideways glance.
"I do. He's on holiday at the minute," He turned his neck to stare out the back window as he reversed. He was the most beautiful thing… "Do you drive yet Naomi?"
"I'm learning," I said honestly, although I doubt I'll ever pass my test. I have a need for speed baby. "I'm hoping to do my test in November,"
"When'd you turn seventeen?"
"Just last month," Damn it. LIE. Say 'Actually I'm eighteen Detective, just a little stupid so they held me back' then make deceitful love to him.
"Ahh I see." A few moments silence, I tried to think of something witty and grownup to say but to no avail, "I think they're some Opal Fruits in the glove compartment if you want them," Great. Now I was a kid to him, a mere child to whom he would offer out-of-date candy.
There were some opal fruits, "You do realise these were renamed Starburst a good five years ago?" I asked eyeing the half eaten pack wearily.
"Oh. That's kind of disgusting then… chuck them out the window,"
"Isn't that illegal? The whole litter thing?"
"Oh yeah… well just do it when I'm not looking,"
"Where are we going anyway?"
"Kings Cross train station." He blatantly looked away as I rolled my window down, "Do it quickly," He warned, "I might spot you,"
I laughed. Funny and sexy. I wanted him so badly it was unreal. "Why are we going to Kings Cross?"
"Nothing too exciting." He actually punched me in that friendly way that people do. It was love. "Look at you all excited," He teased. My heart sang the song of romance… and slight annoyance, "The train station always has trouble on the first day of the school term. Some weirdoes threatening it, bombs and the like. Nothing ever happens of course but they feel more secure when we station a few officers about the building."
"There are other officers there?"
"No. But they don't know that. But like I said there's never any trouble. If there was they wouldn't let me take you along for the ride." I couldn't help but be mildly disappointed.
"What if there is trouble?" I asked hopefully, "Can I fire at will?"
"You don't have a gun you bloody eegit, but if you want to point your index finger at the bad guys then knock yourself out."
"But what if they think I'm a police officer and go all bad on me? Shouldn't you give me a fire arm of sorts?" I might as well try.
"Do you have a licence?"
"No but-,"
"Then no."
I sighed and stared out of the window, after a moment I put my headphones in and turned on my I-pod. I got to listen to almost an entire verse when an earphone was pulled out.
"Are you huffing with me?" Donovan sounded disbelieving and utterly amused.
"No." I snapped sullenly trying to put my headphone back in but Donovan just pulled it out again.
"You are! I can tell. I was a teenager a few years back, I know a strop when I see one."
"I. Am. NOT. Stropping," I was totally stropping. But he was laughing, so I gave him my 'cutesy half-smile' which always gets me out of trouble with male teachers and my dad and stuff. See I've always been cute, always. It's just the way it is. I've always been tiny and petite and blonde and that works for me. Sure I used to get annoyed that I was too tiny to be a threatening figure but then I learnt that my looks were a great distraction, give them the half smile then kick them in the balls. It works. So I joined a kickboxing class and do a bit of judo, it means I'm never a victim and I can reap the benefits of my cuteness.
"How about this?" Donovan leant over me and opened the glove compartment. He smelt of expensive cologne. When he sat back in his seat he was holding a can of pepper spray, "You can have this, and a McDonalds?"
I turned off my I-pod. "Deal,"
We pulled into the car park beside kings cross at quarter to eleven. I was still finishing my Big Mac as we clambered out of the car. Donovan locked it and began walking purposefully towards the big glass doors at the entrance of the train station. I trotted along beside him, happy as Larry, with a full belly of junk food and a beautiful man at my side.
"So what do you do for fun?" Donovan asked. Small talk, he wanted me.
"Oh you know, normal stuff. I get some stuff from my local dealer, steal a car, ride about, get knocked up, burn the car out and dump it in a lake. Just your average MTV generation teen," I shoved the last of my burger into my mouth and grinned at Officer Handsome through a mouth of lettuce and ketchup.
"Oh…" He looked as if he wanted to be amused but wasn't sure whether of not I was joking.
"Jeez I'm kidding," I was in the process of licking my fingers free of salt and ketchup. That was a damn good burger. "I really just do incredibly boring stuff, so I pretend to be a drug addict joy rider."
"Ah…"
"What do you do for fun Donovan?" The doors opened automatically and we entered the tame confusion that was September first at Kings Cross. People rushed about trailing suitcases and school bags, on and off trolleys. Parents directed the younger teens onto the correct trains and some kids were pushing each other about on trolleys. There was that noise you get at train stations, supermarkets, airports etc; a distant hustling that doesn't really intrude on your own life; background noise.
"I don't really do anything apart from work." Donovan was saying as he led me towards some vending machines, he bought us both a chocolate bar. He must have the metabolism of a race horse with everything he eats, I could already feel my jeans getting tighter at the thighs. "It's a full time job this policing malarkey. I used to play a bit of rugby and take tae kwondo but nowadays I just don't have the time." He looked kind of wistful but not horrendously so, "But it's worth it, I love my job."
"Hmm," I didn't really know what to say so I said nothing. I find that me not talking is never really a bad thing anyway.
We sat down on the plastic chairs near the vending machines and watched people scurry past. I love people watching, it's probably one of my favourite pastimes. A woman scurried past in an eighties style power suit and matching hair cut, she was snapping rather nastily into a hands free headset and had folders tucked under her arm even though she was carrying a brief case. Almost directly behind her was a middle aged man in a full-length black, leather coat with long grey hair and a freaky-ass tattoo hiding the left side of his face. And behind him was a lanky red-headed girl who was looking angry and upset and wheeling a full-on wooden trunk on a trolley. See? People watching is fun.
"Look at that," Donovan said motioning to a crowd of teenage boys, "Fricken owls. They have owls."
"Weird." I chuckled secretly longing for my own owl.
We continued on in silence for a few moments then Donovan stiffened. "No…" He whispered. And just like that he was pulling out his mobile phone.
"What? What is it?" I asked frantically looking in the direction he had been.
"Inspector?" Donovan was ignoring me. Maybe it wasn't love after all, "No nothing sir… No… Yes… She's fine… Crabbe… Yes here… Beside Platform ten… Yes I can see him right now… No… Nothing… Just standing there… Just another big bulky bloke… umm," He stared at platform ten, "About six-four, Caucasian, male, shaved head, scar on his right cheek, weird clothing… Weird yes… Well socks and sandals for a start- No I'm not joking about- I-," He hung up the phone looking frustrated.
"What's going on?" I was quite excited. This Crabbe guy looked very ominous standing by platform ten with his sandal and sock wearing companion. The guy beside him was huge but Crabbe was even bigger, at least six-seven and built like a tank. He probably ate bigger things than me for breakfast. Scenes of fast paced gun shootouts flashed before my eyes and I couldn't wait.
"See that guy?" Donovan said motioning to Crabbe with his eyes, "That's Vincent Crabbe Senior, he's been on our radar a lot recently. Linked to all sorts of crime, you've probably heard about it all on the news, horrible murders, tortures, kidnappings but we've yet to pin anything on him. Never leaves a trace."
"So you can't just go over there and arrest him?"
"Well I could, on suspicion. I could hold him for twenty-four hours, then with no evidence he's free to go," He looked frustrated, "He's dirty all right but until there's some solid evidence to convict him there's just no point in taking him in. It would do nothing but weaken the prosecution."
"Then why call the Inspector?"
"Well Crabbe and his goon are here and we don't know why. Sure he has a son, Vincent Crabbe Junior- I know," He rolled his eyes, "Original right?- But anyway, the kid goes to school from this train station but do you see him anywhere?" I stared at Crabbe again, there was no son around. "And as Crabbe's linked to many a recent mass-slaughter, and is now hanging out at a busy train station, I can't help but be a little suspicious."
"Can I have a gun now?"
"No." Donovan finished the last of his chocolate and shoved the wrapper in his pocket. I still hadn't opened mine.
Suddenly there was a huge explosion on our left. I felt Donovan grab me, he pushed me to the ground and covered me with his body. I was terrified and a little thrilled all at once. Heat roared above us, whipping my hair back. There was screaming all around but something told me that the explosion hadn't been too serious as far as bombs go or whatever. After a few moments Donovan rolled off me and I was able to look around. Through the confusion it was still very obvious that it had been the vending machines that had blown.
But that's not what Donovan was looking at, "Shit," He hissed climbing to his feet. He held out a hand to help me up. "Crabbe's gone," And sure enough he was. "Go back to the car. Wait for me there. Now!" He commanded and then he disappeared into the crowd, gun drawn and badge hanging from his neck.
Feeling disorientated I let the crowd pull me along towards the exits. Someone was yelling in agony near the machines, he was covered in blood and shaking on the floor. I felt bile rise in my throat. What if we'd waited a few more minutes before getting our chocolate? I couldn't help but wonder, however, why the explosion had been so small. I mean sure one guy was hurt but it was hardly on the scale that all the others on the news had been. In the recent atrocities up to a hundred people had been dying a pop. It seemed like more of a diversionary tactic than the actual attack. That thought only fuelled my desire to get the hell out of there before something worse happened. That's when someone grabbed me.
I screamed but no one paid much attention, they were all too busy panicking about they're own safety. Strong, thick arms pulled me right off the ground and man handled me into the male toilets. I kicked and squirmed for all I was worth to no avail.
I was then dumped on the dirty tiled floor of the toilets, utterly terrified. I spun around and saw Crabbe's friend and the man himself blocking the doors. I scuttled, crab style away from them until my back was pressed against the far wall. "Get the hell away from me," My voice was a lot stronger than I'd expected it to be. I scrambled to my feet, but my knees were shaking so hard I almost fell down again.
They just stood there. Neither approached nor spoke. Then it clicked, Crabbe wasn't the bad guy. Well he was, but he wasn't the I main /I bad guy. The cops were chasing a mere crony.
I was still leaning on the wall for support but I couldn't help but feel indignant. "I just want you guys to know that I really don't like you," I declared as if it mattered, "And you!" I said to the friend of Crabbe, "You are wearing sandals and socks, have you no shame?"
They completely ignored me. It was like they didn't speak English or something.
"Move," A new voice came from behind them. In an instant the two huge men stepped aside revealing a slender, blonde man who couldn't have been more than twenty years old. Alarm bells erupted in my head, don't they say that if terrorists let you see their face that they don't intend on letting you survive? Oh damn.
"Hey there," I tried the half smile, it was worth a go. "I'm Naomi and you are?"
"Shut up,"
"Well that's rude-,"
He turned the full force of his cold gaze on me and I stopped still. There was no one home behind those eyes.
"You're going to bring you're little muggle aurors a message," Crazy blank eyes told me.
"I am?" Well at least I was going to survive, although I didn't have the faintest clue what he was talking about.
"Yes," He approached me slowly and drew a stick from the back pocket of his jeans. "I'm going to burn it into your skin."
Shit. "That really isn't necessary, I have a great memory-,"
"I think this will have a much more lasting impact don't you agree?" He pressed the stick against my neck and hissed the words into my ear, "You should not have come here,"
"Yeah but see I didn't really have a choice-," I gulped against the stick.
"Shut up."
"Dude I don't care what you're up to, seriously. I won't tell anyone about this. How about you take that stick away from my throat and we can just forget all about this? No need to engrave a message into my skin or anything-," I was rambling but couldn't seem to stop. I didn't really want to stop.
"Shut up!"
I really, really don't like people telling me to shut up. Even with him having a severe upper hand I was getting angry. Plus I realised something, he was taking his time with the killing. He was hesitating. His heart wasn't in it. Whatever.
"I have a family, and a dog that I walk. If I die the poor thing will never get out again, think about what your doing… I have a picture if you want to see it? It's the cutest thing-," Then I hit him with a good hard right-hook in the face as I simultaneously kneed him I there /I .
The punch did not have the effect I expected, I mean I'd I expected /I my hand to sting but not for my entire body to be ripped apart by excruciating pain.
Invisible, red-hot knives stabbed every inch of my flesh. My lungs and heart froze within me, I couldn't breathe, couldn't see. I was vaguely aware that I'd fallen to the floor, my head had hit the tiles hard, blood was seeping into my squinted eyes. I was spasming, coughing up vomit, scratching at my own skin in agony. I could feel the blonde man thrashing around on the floor beside me, could hear his yelling as frantic as my own. Then it stopped and everything went black.