Even though he hadn't seen much in the way of action by the time the siege had been brought back under control, Peter was relieved.
The medics had taken the wounded officer to the waiting ambulances and Hardy had almost escaped their ministrations until Peter pointed out that he had been injured. He kept a bland face as his boss glared at him for pointing this fact out.
As Hardy was led to an ambulance Peter carefully folded the handkerchief that he had used to help stem the bleed into a plastic evidence bag and put in into his pocket. He hadn't started out wanting to get a DNA sample from Hardy, but now that he had it, he was going to use it.
The car they had arrived in had sustained a lot of damage and sat forlornly on its flat tires like a deflated bouncy castle. But there were plenty of other rides available back to the police station and Peter availed himself of one of them.
Once there he headed quickly down to the labs. He figured Hardy would be taken to A&E at the local hospital and would be out of the picture for a while. It would hopefully be just enough time for him to get the handkerchief checked in under the guise of evidence.
Maybe now he would have concrete proof that the man who shared his face was somehow related to him.
The lab seemed almost abandoned but soon someone came to greet him, "can I help you?" the man asked.
"Yeah," Peter pulled the cellophane bag from his pocket, "I need to get this analysed."
The man took the bag from him and held it up to the light before passing a clip board with some form on it to him.
Peter filled out the information, adding the case number of the recent shop robberies to it, then passed it back, "chief wants you to put a rush on it," he said meaningfully.
"You got it," the man smiled, "it's been really quiet, so you should have the results by the end of the week."
Peter watched as the handkerchief was tagged with the case number and together with the paperwork was bundled off to the labs.
Natalie was sat by the television watching the resolution of the stand-off and hearing the injury and fatality counts with a heavy heart.
She wanted to call Peter's mobile and several times had picked up the phone to do so, only to remember he had asked her not to ring him while he was at work unless it was an emergency.
As much as she tried to rationalise the need to know that he was OK as an emergency she couldn't quite allow herself to believe it was.
Instead she decided to ring the station. By the second ring the phone was answered by a brisk police woman who politely, yet firmly, insisted she could not give out information on the officers whereabouts but would be happy to take a message.
Biting back a scream of frustration Natalie took a deep breath and left a message asking Peter to call her as soon as possible.
She sat back on the sofa, cradling her stomach with her hands. It would be hard to raise a child on her own, if something ever happened to Peter she would be unable to support herself.
Wondering if there was anything she could do as far as a job was concerned, she didn't relish the idea of working in a shop and trying to make do on that salary as a single mum.
'Don't think that way!' she admonished herself.
Rising to her feet she looked around for something to distract her, anything to keep the awful thoughts of Peter lying in a morgue, and the baby she carried inside her never getting to meet the wonderful man that helped create him, or her.
