Ben knocked the door down, he'd been waiting to do that all morning, jumping up and down like an excited puppy. He and Kirsty barged past an older looking guy who was passed out on the hallway floor, leaving Mickey to twist his frail body round so he could be handcuffed. Mickey's nose crinkled up in disgust as he bent down to reach behind the man, he reeked of booze and a distinct stench of vomit floated through the air reaching the noses of all officers near by. Smithy gave him a sympathetic look before shouting POLICE and following Stevie into the house.

They hadn't expected so many addicts to be in the house at the same time so they'd been unpleasantly surprised when the two groups met in the main room of the house to see over 20 addicts either injecting or passed out on the ground. Officers stormed through the house and thumped their way up the creaky wooden stairs, their footsteps echoing around the empty house. Blankets littered the floor and an old mattress lay in the corner of the room, a frail looking woman passed out on top of it, greasy hair covered her face and a needle was still sticking out of her arm.

The sounds of Neil Manson barking orders at officers sounded throughout the house. The sound of his voice reached you before the sights of officers standing above addicts as they tried to maneuver them carefully before slapping the cuffs round their wrists. Kirsty looked like she was having a particularly hard time trying to lift a large looking bloke who was leaning heavily against the bland walls, all the colour stripped from both his face and the wallpaper behind him. Dark bags stood out against his ghostly pale skin which was accentuated by the hollows of his cheeks that contrasted with his large, bulky frame. Greasy hair hung limply in front of his eyes and his mouth was hidden from view by a large grey beard. His eye's had rolled back in his head and his lips were dry and cracked. She finally managed to turn him around, his coat dragging along the grimy floor. The handcuffs made a hollow metal sound as the clicked in place, ensuring the man a one way lift to the cells of SunHill. Once he was declared fit by the FME that was, he looked like he was away with the fairies and by the puncture marks that were visible under the rolled up sleeves of his jacket it looked as if he'd been a regular with this deal for quite some time.

Radio's could be heard crackling around the room, Ben was shouting down his own for back up to attend and for the ambulance that had been on stand by to pull up in front of the house. The number of addicts heavily outweighed the number of officers and there was no way they'd be able to keep control of the situation for much longer. There was a particular woman who was screaming and shouting at the top of her lungs from inside the small kitchen at the back of the house. Nate was there trying to calm her down and restrain her however he barely managed to avoid a black eye as she swung her arms in the air, violently. That would definitely have put a stop to his tendency to stroll in late on a Saturday morning after a good night with a girl.

"Stevie, there's a basement in the house. Check it out will you. Smithy go with her!" Neil yelled from his place crouched over the woman who'd passed out in the corner. The hair had been lifted off her face to show dark purple bruises around her eyes and rings of bruises across her upper arms, she'd obviously taken a fair beating. Smithy turned round to see that Stevie had lost any of the colour she'd had before entering the house, she reminded him of a startled deer but on hearing the commands of the DI she left the bulky form of a man that she'd somehow managed to wrestle to the ground and arrest only moments ago and pivoted on her heels to stare directly at a wooden door that led to stone steps. Stone steps which led downwards.

He pushed passed her, determined to not let her have to walk down there first. He whipped out his baton, placing it in front of him as he led the descent downwards. The sounds of the raid upstairs seemed to fade away as they carried on going downwards. The soft sound of their footsteps could be heard echoing and Stevie found herself thankful that she hadn't worn heels to work this morning otherwise they'd have alerted whoever was down here within minutes. Smithy could understand why anyone who was down here wouldn't have heard the raid going on upstairs, the sounds of doors slamming and voices shouting CLEAR had now faded to background music, almost like the music played in elevators that no-one ever paid particular attention to.

"I'll go left" Her voice shook as she left him to go into the dingy room towards the left as he went into the right. There were no windows so the room was dark with only a small overhead light bulb to cast a dim glow on his surroundings. A faded threadbare carpet covered the floor but failed to smother the creaking of the rotten floorboards underneath his feet. There was an unstable looking chair in the middle of the room, a small table standing next to it with an open duffel bag on top of it. A mattress lay in the corner, this one was thicker than the one the woman upstairs had passed out on which must mean that this was the big guys rooms. Whoever was leading up this deal obviously liked to sleep in style. With a final sweep of the room he could calmly say that there was no-one down here and whatever had been stashed inside that duffel bag was now gone as it lay empty and open on top of the rickety table.

"Smithy?"'

Stevie's voice was shaking even more than it had been as she called out to him from the other room. She sounded quiet and scared, so much unlike her usual self. He just guessed it was being in this same situation again, the memories of that needle sticking out of Stuarts neck as he screamed at her to get the guy who'd done it. Stuart hadn't been able to understand why Stevie had chosen to stay and help him instead of doing her job and catching the guy. He hadn't known her well enough at the time to know she'd always chose a friend over the job and that she actually classed him as a friend. He began to make his way out of the room and towards where she'd gone in search of the large amount of cocaine.

He'd only been in the room 2 minutes before his eyes adjusted to the dark and they widened in shock horror. His jaw dropped and he just stood and stared at the helpless look on her pale face, her eyes begging him for help. Behind her stood the figure of a tall, but well built man. His long hair was pulled back into a ponytail and his beard was shaved close to his face. Despite the dirty clothes and ripped trousers he looked more normal than the other addicts they'd arrested upstairs. The only thing that gave him away was puncture marks on his arms and the sharp looking needle he held against Stevie's neck.

He pulled his radio up towards his mouth, his eyes never leaving Stevie's frightened ones as the grubby hand that was rooted in her hair pulled her upwards, her knee's having given out underneath her.

"We've got a problem Guv."

Hi :) now that I've finished You Owe Me An Answer i should have more time to update other stories, including this one. Well that's technically how it should work but don't count on it :)
Please review :) thanks x