1938

Christopher Foyle took a deep steadying breath and then glanced around to make sure that everyone was in position. His sergeant was standing just behind him and he knew that over half a dozen constables were hidden, awaiting their signal, behind the various fishing sheds. Over a month of careful work had gone into this and now, if they'd gotten it right, they were about to bust a smuggling ring that had been giving them trouble for the past year.

He took another deep breath and turned to Wilson, "If I'm not out in ten minutes or it sounds like trouble send the constables in."

Wilson nodded his voice also low, "Yes Sir, but shouldn't I come with you?"

Foyle shook his head, "Rather not spook them if we can avoid it, it will also give me a chance to make sure we've got the correct location."

"Yes Sir, but do be careful."

Foyle nodded and then, straightening his tie out of habit, stepped out of the shadows and into the warehouse they believed was the smugglers' headquarters.

"Can I help you?"

Foyle turned toward the gruff voice that came out of the gloom, "Err yes, I believe I've lost my way, I'm supposed to be meeting with a friend but I must have taken a wrong turn." As he spoke his eyes had adjusted and they widened before he could stop them as he took in the piles of black-market goods that filled the room we knew it was a lot but I wasn't expecting it to be on this scale.

"Oh you've taken a wrong turn alright guv," the harsh voice said and Foyle knew things were going to end badly. A piece of pipe came toward his head and he only just had time to block it with his forearm. The force of the blow knocked him off balance and he was still trying to find his footing when a fist collided with his stomach.

Foyle sank to his knees but the blows kept coming hitting his ribs with enough force that he knew they would be badly bruised if not broken. Maybe I should have said five minutes…

Just than he heard the shrill blast of a police whistle and the sound of running feet, then the door behind him swung open "Police, stop where you are!" The blows stopped and the sound of swearing and wrestling soon filled the small space.

Foyle lay on his back trying to catch his breath. He knew he ought to get up and help but at the moment breathing seemed challenging enough. He took a careful breath letting out a hiss of pain as his ribs ached in protest, "SIR!" Wilson was leaning over him, his eyes wide with shock.

"I'm all right"

The words, intended to reassure, came out breathless and only seemed to frightened his sergeant more and he put a restraining hand on Foyle's shoulder as he moved to sit up. "I think you'd better lie still Sir until we know how bad it is. I'll send one of the constables for the doctor."

Foyle shook his head, "No, just my ribs…just need to catch my breath…constables needed here… now help me sit up."

It took much longer than it should have to express himself in so few words and Foyle winced in both pain and irritation. Wilson was still hovering above him clearly unsure if he should believe his superior or follow his initial plan. Foyle took the decision out of his hands by struggling to sit up, leaving him little choice but to assist.

By the time Foyle was propped against the wall he was pale and sweating from the pain, his breathes more shallow gasps than anything. Wilson was looking increasingly concerned but before he could say anything one of the constables called for him and Foyle waved him off with a slightly breathless, "Go on."

What the DCS didn't know, as he sat trying to figure out how to breath without stabbing pain from his ribs, was that upon exiting the warehouse Wilson had sent one of the constables back to the station to gather more men and, more importantly Superintendent Reid.

That was why the next time Foyle's painful solitude was interrupted it was Reid not Wilson he saw when he opened his eyes, "Christopher are you all right?"

"Per-fect-ly"

Reid's eyebrows rose, his mouth tightening into a thin line, "I think that's the worst lie I've ever heard you tell Christopher. How bad is it?"

"Just my ribs."

"Broken?"

"Not sure."

Reid nodded, "Right, hospital then, think you can stand?"

"If I say yes can I go home instead?"

"No, and if you're asking that then I have my answer." Reid rested his large hands on Foyle's shoulders to keep him in place as he turned to call over his shoulder, "Wilson come here a minute." His worried sergeant was soon leaning over him as well and Foyle found himself being helped to his feet.

As careful as they were it still hurt and Foyle couldn't stop the low groan of pain that escaped him. "Steady on Christopher" Reid murmured as he wrapped an arm around Foyle's waist, "it's just a few steps."

Foyle nodded but was infinitely grateful when he was at last settled in the front of the car. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back as he listened to Wilson and Reid talking in quiet tones, he didn't catch what they said but it was Reid who climbed into the driver's seat, something else he was grateful for.

"Might want to brace yourself Christopher," Reid said as he started the car, "I'll drive as carefully as I can but you know the roads." Foyle nodded and wrapped one arm around his aching ribs before bracing the other against the locked door.

When they reached the hospital Reid carefully helped him out and up the steps where a nurse meet them, bundled him into a waiting wheelchair and after hearing Reid's explanation of what had happened took him off for x-rays.

It was over an hour later before another nurse appeared in the doorway of the room where Reid had been told to wait, "Are you here for DCS Foyle?"

Reid nodded immediately getting to his feet, "I am. How is he?"

The nurse pursed her lips into a thin line, "He would be decidedly better if he did as he was told and rests. The doctor is hoping you'll be able to reason with him."

"I'll do my best. May I speak to the doctor? I would like to know the full extent of his injuries."

The nurse nodded and led him down a series of hallways until they met a pleasant looking middle-aged man with glasses, "Dr. Norton this is Superintendent Reid, he brought DCS Foyle in."

The doctor nodded and held out a hand, "Pleased to meet you Superintendent, is DCS Foyle's wife on her way then?"

Reid winced before he could stop himself, "I'm afraid not Sir, she died a number of years ago and his only son is away at school."

"I am very sorry to hear that Superintendent, do you act as Mr. Foyle's proxy then?"

"I do Sir."

"Very well, he is quite lucky although I doubt he feels that way at the moment. He only cracked two ribs and they are non-displaced so there was no internal injury. A fair number are bruised however and he is going to be quite uncomfortable for the next week or so. He'll need fairly strong pain medication for the next few days and if he has no one to keep an eye on him at home I'd like to keep him here for a day or two, just to be on the safe side."

Reid nodded, his brow furrowed with concern, "I understand Sir, he would be welcome to come home with me but I have two young daughters so he might rest better here."

"At the moment he isn't resting at all, he is highly agitated about something, I was hoping you might be able to ease his mind?"

"I'll certainly do my best Sir, may I see him now?"

Dr. Norton nodded and led him a little further down the hall to a partly open door, "Don't hesitate to ring for the nurse if need be."

Reid nodded and after shaking the doctor's hand, made his way quietly into the room. Christopher looked pale and small and Hugh was suddenly very glad that Andrew was away at Oxford, seeing his father like this would scare the poor lad terribly. Although I will have to tell him…

"Christopher?"

Foyle opened his eyes, "Still here Hugh? Thought they threw you out."

"No just banished me for a bit, I won't ask how you are because I can see that for myself and I doubt you'd tell me the truth anyway." Foyle didn't answer so Reid pulled a chair up to the bed and sat down, "the nurse tells me you're not resting, something on your mind?"

Foyle frowned, "Andrew's going to fuss."

"Of course he is Christopher, it's only the natural."

"Be fine."

"I know that but not telling him will only make him cross with you, look I'll telephone him as soon as I get home."

Foyle shook his head, "Charles, tell him."

"Yes and Charles."

Foyle shook his head again, "No!" He groaned although in pain or frustration Reid wasn't sure.

"Steady on Christopher, so you don't want me to tell Charles?"

"No…Charles tell Andrew"

"Ah, you think that might make him fuss less?" Foyle raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking slightly as if to say 'worth a shot' and Reid patted his knee through the bedclothes, "all right Christopher, I'll call Charles and see if he can't go around to the college and tell Andrew. Don't worry I'll tell him they're not to worry about coming down as you'll be back home in a day or two."

The tension finally bled out of Foyle's shoulders and he relaxed back onto the bed with a sigh, "Thanks Hugh."

"Not at all old chap, now do as the doctor says and get some rest. I'll swing by later and see how you're getting on." Foyle nodded, his eyes already sliding closed and Reid quietly left the room.