Ros' heart was pounding as she threw herself onto the hard tiled floor of the hallway; trying to make sure that she was away from the angle of fire of the shooter. There was no way of knowing if that first shot was going to be the only one, or the first of a concerted attack.

Having reached the relative safety of the hallway, she turned back to check where Jo was. The younger officer was leant against the wall, a look of faint surprise on her face, a dark red stain forming just above the waistband of her jeans.

"Oh shit," Ros breathed, scrambling to her knees and drawing her gun from its holster. Pressing herself against the wall, she edged forward, trying to work out where the shooter was. She had seen the telltale sign of a gun barrel glinting only moments earlier, but there was no way of being certain that that was where the shot had come from. For all she knew there could be an army of armed men out there, all waiting for their chance to take a pot shot at O'Dowd.

"Jo," she hissed at her obviously shocked colleague. "Back inside. Come on Jo, I need you to move this way."

There was the sound of hurried footsteps behind her as Adam arrived to check out what was going on. She didn't bother turning around to acknowledge him, but told him as quickly as she could what was going on.

"I need you to be ready to give covering fire if needed whilst I get the door closed," she told him.

"Got it," Adam acknowledged.

Ros edged closer to the door, using the wall as cover as best as she could. Jo was still leant back against the wall, seemingly unable to move; oblivious to the drops of rain that were now falling upon her through the open door.

"Come on," Ros hissed at her again. "Are you looking to make yourself a target? Get back in here."

"Down," Adam ordered as he spotted movement ahead of him.

Ros reached forward and grabbed hold of Jo's arm, pulling her towards the floor as Adam fired a shot at the figure that was emerging from the bushes. Two rounds were fired in reply in quick succession and slammed into the doorframe where Jo had been standing only moments earlier. Ros felt the blast from the shot and forced herself to keep moving as splinters of wood cascaded around her head.

As she crouched, pulling Jo away from the doorway, she kicked back with her foot, catching the open door and slamming it shut.

"That's not going to hold them for long," she warned Adam as he reached forward helping her to her feet.

"Get to Zaf and O'Dowd, see if Zaf can get an angle on the shooter and then check out the exits. If we're lucky then they won't have them covered."

"Since when did you start believing in blind luck?" Ros called back over her shoulder as she raced down the hallway and into the living room.

Adam ignored the question and turned his attention to Jo. Her breathing was coming in shallow, fast gasps.

"Come on," he encouraged her, "We've got to get you away from here."

"I've....I've..." she struggled to find the words, her face paling and her eyes widening further.

"Jo...There's no time for this Jo," Adam urged. "We have to get out of here."

"No angle on the shooter," Zaf's voice reached him from the next room.

"What's going on?" O'Dowd's voice joined the noise level that was building from the next room.

"Just shut up and get down on the floor as I told you," Adam listened to Zaf barking orders at O'Dowd.

He turned his attention back to Jo. She was starting to shake as shock set in; her hands trembling as they reached to explore the area of the wound.

"Let me take a look," he told her gently, hoping that he could leave everything else to Zaf and Ros. He moved Jo's hands out of the way and carefully lifted the bottom of the blouse she was wearing.

"It normally takes more than one date to get this far," she attempted to joke.

Adam looked at the wound. From what he could see the injury wasn't a deep one; the bullet nicking the surface of the stomach as it passed by.

"It's ok," he told her. "You're going to be fine."

She smiled weakly. "You'd say that anyway."

"Come on; let's get you into the back of the house." Adam slipped an arm around Jo's shoulder and helped her to her feet, trying to ignore the whimper of pain she gave as she moved.

"What the hell is going on?" O'Dowd demanded to know, his voice shrill as he struggled to keep a lid on his own panic.

"Just shut up and keep your head down," Zaf told him firmly as the door to the room opened and Adam entered, supporting Jo as best as he could.

"Oh my God!" O'Dowd's face paled as he took in the sight of the two officers. "I'm getting out of here."

Adam manoeuvred Jo onto the sofa as gently as he could before turning his attention towards O'Dowd who was scrambling to his feet and heading for the door.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" he demanded to know as he grabbed hold of the front of O'Dowd's shirt and pushed him up against the wall.

"Get off me," O'Dowd struggled to free himself from Adam's grip but Adam simply pushed him harder against the wall.

"You're not going anywhere," Adam shouted in his face. "You've got one of my team shot, I'm not about to let you get one of us killed." O'Dowd stopped struggling, but Adam's hold on the shirt didn't relent. "You could have gotten her killed. Do you understand that? Does that piece of information register in what you laughingly call your brain? Believe me when I say that nothing would give me more pleasure right now that throwing you out onto that street and just letting them do what they want,' he paused and pushed his face closer to O'Dowd's. "In fact, why don't I just do that? I think that would solve all our problems."

Without warning, Adam pulled O'Dowd away from the wall and pushed him towards the door.

"Adam," Zaf's voice carried with it a note of concern.

"No, no," Adam countered. "Big man here said that he wanted to be out of here."Adam pushed him out into the hallway. "I'm just giving him what he wants."

"Adam, you can't," Zaf tried again to persuade his colleague to stop what he was doing.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't?"

Zaf placed a hand on Adam's shoulder. "Let him go."

Adam pushed O'Dowd against the wall.

"What...so he can succeed in getting one of us killed? He's not worth dying for Zaf."

"Adam, we need to find a way out of here. Getting yourself and O'Dowd shot is not going to help Jo."

Adam paused and Zaf tried to press home his point. "Jo needs us Adam; we don't have time for this."

Zaf stared at his colleague; silently urging him to realise what he was doing.

"I can't see anyone out the back," Ros appeared in the hallway and looked disdainfully at the scene unfolding in front of her. "I can't imagine that we'd all get out that way before someone decides to open up with the pot shots again. When the three of you have finished beating your chests and established who the hairy alpha-male in the group is, do you think we could turn our attention to getting out of here alive?"

Adam let go of the hold he had on O'Dowd's shirt, and the man made a show of straightening up.

Adam kept his gaze locked on O'Dowd, daring him to say anything. "What's the word from the Grid?"

"All I can get is static," Ros told him calmly. "My guess is that our friendly neighbourhood shooter is blocking the signal somehow."

Zaf pulled his phone from the back pocket of his jeans and checked for a signal. "Nothing here either. I can't imagine that the local brigade of curtain twitchers is just going to sit there. Someone's going to be on the phone to the police."

"So we have to get him out of here before that happens," Ros continued the thought. "If you can keep them busy out the front, I'll take Prince Charming here out the back way."

"And go where?" Adam questioned, not liking the way that Ros was taking charge of the situation.

"For starters, somewhere where people aren't shooting at us!" Ros looked between her two colleagues. "There are other safe houses in the city. Safe houses that are decidedly safer than this one is right now. The choice is yours…Stay here, or try and make it to somewhere that won't be swarming with police and the media within the next 15 minutes."

"I vote for getting out of here," O'Dowd chipped in.

"There's Jo to consider," Adam reminded her.

"If she's not well enough to move, we leave her here," Ros stated matter of factly.

Adam shook his head. "I'm not leaving anyone behind."

"Very noble of you I'm sure," Ros replied coolly. "But I don't think your nobility alone is going to be enough to keep us alive."

Adam did his best to ignore the jibe and continued. "At the moment it looks as though our shooter is still at the front of the property. Go with Zaf and get O'Dowd out the back of the house and into the garden. There should be a fairly easy route across the back gardens. I'll try and keep him busy here. I'll give you a couple of minutes and then follow you with Jo."

Ros shook her head slowly. "She's gonna slow you down, There's no reason to think that he'll come through the property."

"...And less reason to care?" Adam's tone was hard.

Ros shrugged her shoulders. "Take it any way that you want. I just think that you're wasting valuable time."

"Duly noted," Adam told her curtly. "But at the end of the day, it's my decision and I've made it."

Without another word Ros turned and headed towards the back door. Zaf exchanged a quick look with Adam, before grabbing hold of O'Dowd's collar and hauling him towards the door.

"When I say run, run. When I say get down, get down," he barked.

"And when you say 'whoops'... what happens then?"

"I lose my bonus but gain the thanks of a grateful nation," Zaf growled and tried to persuade the reluctant O'Dowd to move faster.

Harry heard the grinding of the gearbox as Ruth failed once again to find the correct gear. Ever since she had picked him up, she appeared to have been struggling with the gears. "Are you alright?' he queried.

Ruth wrenched at the gear stick until it finally settled into place.

"It's your fault," she grumbled beneath her breath. "You're making me nervous."

The corners of Harry's mouth twitched. "I'm making you nervous?"

"It's like being in a car with a driving examiner," she told him honestly. "I get the feeling that you're watching every move that I make..." she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye before adding, "...and judging me."

"I am doing no such thing."

"So why do you keep tutting every time that I do anything."

"I do not," Harry protested, aware that he wasn't the best of passengers.

"Oh yes you do. It's that or drawing your breath in over your teeth. I can hear you, you know."

"I'm sorry," he apologised. "I guess I'm just a little on edge."

"And that's a feeling you feel as though you want to share?"

"I said I was sorry."

Ruth turned her full attention back to the road. "And you can stop looking at where I have my hands on the wheel as well," she added. "I understand now why your drivers all prefer it when you sit in the back!"

Harry opened his mouth to say something but then thought better of it. It was one of Ruth's natural skills – the ability to cultivate contacts in the most unlikely of places. He wasn't sure that he was entirely happy with the idea that she spent her time chatting with his drivers about him and his manners as a passenger, but he was determined not to interfere. He folded his arms and sat back in the seat.

"And will you stop looking at the speedometer!"

Ros pulled open the back door to the house and scanned the area quickly, looking for any signs of movement. Satisfied that she had a clear exit to the nearest piece of cover, she darted forward.

Upon reaching the side of the shed, she crouched down, using the wall and the bushes in front of her to disguise her position. After a few moments, she beckoned Zaf forward, covering his and O'Dowd's movement as best as she could; sweeping the area with the barrel of her handgun, looking for the slightest movement that didn't belong.

As the pair of them reached her side, she pushed O'Dowd towards the ground.

"If you want to keep your head; I suggest you keep it down," she hissed at him.

"You're concern for my well-being is touching," he told her as he struggled to maintain his balance.

"Another death on my record is something I can do without," she replied bluntly. "They always feel the need to bring petty things like that up when you're angling for a pay rise."

"At least you're not like suicide boy back in there," he remarked. "What is his problem?"

"Watching his colleagues get shot whilst trying to protect a worthless piece of shit like you doesn't do much for his general demeanour," Ros told him flatly, her eyes darting to the back door as it opened again, and Adam appeared on the threshold; supporting Jo at his side. Ros swore beneath her breath, and motioned to Zaf to get ready to provide covering fire should it be needed. The last thing they needed when trying to get away from potential pursuers was dead weight, and it looked as though Adam was about to insist that they bring Jo with them. She shook her head; her new colleagues had a lot to learn about survival.

Harry felt the gentle vibration of his phone and reached into his pocket. "What is it Malcolm?" he queried, knowing full well who was most likely to be calling him.

"Harry, we have a situation at the safe house," Malcolm announced calmly.

"What sort of a situation?"

"I've lost contact with them. There's no reply from any of the communication devices." There was a pause. "On a sliding scale it's beyond incredibly unlikely that everything has packed up at once."

"Right. I'm nearly at the safe house now. I'll update you as soon as I hear anything."

Harry ended the call and placed the phone back into the pocket of his coat.

"Ruth," his voice was firm and calm. "I need you to put your foot down."

Ruth frowned and glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "It's a thirty mile an hour area," she pointed out. "And contrary to what you might think, I am doing thirty."

"Ruth, when I say, I want you to put your foot down and turn right at the end of the road."

"What?" Ruth failed to understand what Harry was getting at. "Have you got any idea of the number of speed cameras in the area? This is my car remember. I'm the one who's liable for the fines."

"I'll take care of the fines," Harry assured her, his tone still even.

Ruth risked a quick glance in his direction. "You can actually do that?"

"Eyes on the road Ruth," Harry advised as he shifted in his seat, reaching into his jacket and pulling a handgun from its holster.

The car swerved across the road as Ruth realised what he was doing. "What are you doing in my car with that thing?" she demanded to know, hurriedly returning her attention to the road and straightening the car up.

"Saving our lives if I get it right," Harry told her matter of factly.

"What!" The car swerved again and Harry had to reach out with a hand to steady the steering wheel.

"I need you to concentrate," Harry explained as he checked the readiness of the handgun.

"Would you mind telling me what you are doing in my car with that thing? For that matter, what are you doing with that thing?"

"Ruth, there really isn't the time to explain."

"Find the time or I stop the car," Ruth warned.

"Ruth!" Harry's voice took on a sharper edge. "Drive. Drive fast."

Ruth glanced at Harry out of the corner of her eye to make sure that he was serious. Her hands suddenly became slick with sweat and her heart rate rocketed. Harry wasn't kidding. There was something serious going on and she was in the driving seat.

She let out what she hoped would be a steadying breath. "Where are we going?"

"End of the road and then right."

"I was thinking more in the terms of final destination," she protested, as she dutifully shifted up through the gears as the car picked up pace.

"Trust me," Harry told her as he reached out to the dashboard for support. "I know exactly where we're going."

Malcolm frowned as he watched Harry's tracker rocket across the screen. His right hand reached for the phone, hesitating for a moment before lifting the receiver from its cradle.

"What?" Harry's voice snapped on the third ring of the phone.

"I thought you ought to know...you've got a tail." Malcolm scrolled through the information that was coming through on the screen in front of him. "ANPR has identified a vehicle that has been behind you for the past fifteen minutes. It didn't concern me until it started to show an equal disregard for the speed limit of her majesty's highways."

"Have you got any more details on the vehicle?"

"It's a black Mitsubishi Shogun, registration..."

"I see it," Harry interrupted the description. It seems as though the driver has decided to abandon any form of covert tailing."

"Do you want back up?"

"Well it would be preferable to meeting my end in a small blue Seat Leon!"

"There's nothing wrong with my car!" Malcolm heard Ruth's voice complain and smiled despite himself.

"I'll see if I can't persuade the local constabulary that stopping the Shogun would be a good idea."

"I appreciate it," Harry told him and broke the connection before turning his attention back to Ruth. "We need to get out of here."

"You say that like its news!" she told him bluntly, glancing in the rear view mirror and noting the way that the black Shogun was closing in on them.

"Where now?" Ruth's voice cracked and Harry knew that she was close to panic.

"Deep breaths," he told her. "We'll be fine."

"Fine," her voice ratcheted up another octave. "Have you any idea of the scores I was awarded on my driving course?"

"Unfortunately yes," Harry told her honestly. "You're lucky I'm such a good passenger. Now at the end of the road it's a left."

Ruth took the corner at speed, the tyres squealing as the rear end of the car slid out.

Harry pushed himself away from where he'd been thrown against the passenger door. "I may have to ask to have your scores reviewed."

"You think I'm improving?"

"No!"

Ruth let out a harrumph of annoyance.

"Well I saw your driving scores..." she told him tartly as she sped through a narrowing gap between two busses. "...and I have to tell you that they weren't that special."

Harry's eyes widened; partly in fear, and partly in surprise. If she had managed to get her hands on his personnel file somehow then he wanted to know about it. He tried to push the thought to one side. Now was not the time to dwell on it. He glanced at Ruth as the car began to slow. "What's wrong?" He took in the road ahead. "Tell me that you're not slowing for the zebra crossing?"

"No, I'm not bloody slowing for the zebra crossing. I'm waiting for you to tell me where we're going next!"

Harry glanced quickly down at the A-Z on his lap, to double check his bearings. He heard a sharp intake of breath from Ruth and knew that the Shogun was back behind them.

His mind was buzzing, trying to work out where the tail had come from. There was one obvious answer to the question and it wasn't one that sat comfortably on his shoulders. Mace had been the only one who could have led someone to his house. He'd not filed any paperwork on his proposed visit to the safe house. If someone was following him, then the chances were that they had picked him up from his home. He pushed aside the immediate feelings of guilt. He was not going to be responsible for putting Ruth in danger. He glanced back over his shoulder, trying to see if there was the tell-tale silhouette of a firearm visible.