Author's note: all usual disclaimers apply. The final story fulfilling my promise in thanks for FF ILM fans contributing to Nat's appeal.

This storyline is partly a tribute to our late monarch, Queen Elizabeth II. Regardless of our political views on the monarchy, she willingly spent 70 years waving, sitting through boring ceremonies, cutting ribbons, listening to the grumblings of 14 Prime ministers, and hosting garden parties… we will never see her like again.

Small branches whacked Detective Inspector Tommy Lynley in the face as he ran. A larger branch caught him across the forehead, momentarily stunning him. He cursed as he reached up to wipe blood from a cut above his eye.

"Stop, Theodore. You can't get away. We have the woods surrounded."

That was a small lie, but there were men ahead of them, and Tommy hoped he was herding the kidnapper into their grasp. It had been a vain hope that the man would stop, and Tommy pushed on, silently cursing his new shoes that were rubbing his ankle raw. He was getting too old for all this nonsense.

Behind him, he heard shrill sirens rushing along the road to the old house. They weren't police sirens. They were… the fire brigade? He turned and paused. Just as a faint whiff of acrid smoke hit his nostrils, he saw a pillar of red and yellow flame towering above the trees. The sound of the explosion took another few seconds and arrived with a concussion wave that made him grab a branch to steady himself.

Tommy turned and watched the red coat of Oscar Theodore run deeper into the woods. He swivelled back to the house as another explosion shook the ground.

"Barbara!"

Taking a deep breath, he began to run back to the house.

Detective Sergeant Barbara Havers looked at the old house. Her boss had hared off after the kidnapper as if he were a man half his age. "Damned fool," she muttered under her breath as she scanned the windows.

"Sarge?"

She turned to a young, uniformed offer dressed in heavily padded protective gear. "Ready?"

"Yes,' the man said with such a serious expression that it made Barbara shiver. "We'll send the robot in first. You're sure the kidnapper said a bomb is in the main reception room?"

Barbara nodded. "The house plans say that's the room on the front right."

"Got it. Just double-checking. We're going now. Any idea where he's hiding the boy?"

"None at all. We're not even sure he's in there, but we can't risk that he might be."

The officer grunted, then turned back to his crew. "Now. Let's hurry. The Prime Minister's son might still be in there."

Barbara clenched and unclenched her hands as she scanned the woods. She hoped Tommy had caught Theodore. Once captured, he might be willing to do a deal and give them the boy's location in return for a degree of clemency. There was no sign of either man, so she turned back to the house and, for the 30th or 40th time, methodically scanned the windows from bottom to top.

Was that…?

"Up there," she called to another uniformed officer. "I think I saw something."

They stood together staring up at the attic window where Barbara was pointing. "I can't see anything, Sergeant," the man said in a frustrated tone.

Barbara didn't like his tone. She took a breath. "Constable…"

"No… wait… yes, there. Hey, you're right."

Barbara looked up to the attic window. Peeping from behind a ratty green curtain was a small, scared face and… a puppy?

As the officer turned to speak, Barbara was no longer beside him. She pushed past another officer and disappeared into the house, ignoring the calls for her to stop. She knew she was being foolhardy. She knew she was endangering her life, and she knew Tommy would yell at her later. But she had to save the boy. Deep in her gut, she knew that she was his only chance.

The house was gloomy but streaked with light pouring through holes in the walls like laser beams tracing the paths of hundreds of bullets. The light made the dust appear to swirl in a surreal pattern that made time and space merge and mutate. She took a second to orient herself. A once magnificent, but now sad, double staircase curved around the wall in front of her. The right side had rotted away, but the left looked sturdy. Tufts of carpet still ran over the centre of some of the steps.

Moving as fast as she dared, she climbed to the first floor quickly. The staircase above narrowed and looked as if a large section of it were missing. She paused at the yawning cavity where part of the landing and the top few steps of the oak staircase had collapsed decades before. Looking down, she could see nothing but black. "In for a penny…" She shook the balustrade. It was solid. Clutching it in both hands, she pulled herself across the gap, her toes balancing on the bottom railing. Once across the landing, she kept her hand on the rail as she raced up the steps two at a time, wincing when some of them creaked ominously beneath her weight. When she reached the top floor, she ran along the corridor, searching for the narrow staircase to the attic. It was dark. The only light came from a hole in the roof behind her. The dank, stale smell of rot made her glad that, for once, she had missed lunch.

Tommy ran back through the woods as fast as he could as he weaved between the thick scrubby undergrowth of the old forest. He should never have left Barbara at the house, knowing that Theodore had claimed to rig a bomb. What if…? He couldn't bear the thought of losing her.

Barbara found the stairs near the end of the passageway. As she climbed slowly, she called out so that the boy wouldn't be frightened. "Simon? Simon, it's Barbara. I'm a police officer. I'm here to help you."

"Where's the man?"

"He's gone. Other police are chasing him, but he can't hurt you now." Barbara pushed against the door. It was locked. She cursed under her breath. "Simon. I need your help. Can you see the door?"

"Yes."

"Can you come over?"

She heard shuffling, a thud, then a yap. When Simon spoke, she jumped, not realising he would be just on the other side of the door. "I'm here."

"Good boy. Now, can you see anything in the lock?"

"No."

She hadn't expected a key, but it would have been handy. "You're going to have to stand back," Barbara said as calmly as she could even though her heart was beating at twice its normal speed. "I have to push against the door."

"I can come out the hole."

Barbara stopped. "What hole?"

"There's a hole in the wall to the next room. It's not locked."

Barbara rolled her eyes, cursing herself for not thinking of that. "Excellent, Simon. Then we'll get out of here."

Ten long seconds later, part of the wall opened in front of her, and the seven-year-old boy stepped out with a wriggling black puppy clutched firmly to his chest. Barbara felt a wave of relief wash over her. "Hello, Simon. Who's your friend?"

The boy closed his eyes. "I don't know his name. I found him. Then… the man stole me."

Barbara frowned. It sounded like the dog had been a ruse to capture Simon, but that didn't matter now. "Well, you must both be hungry, and your parents miss you. Let's get you home."

The boy hesitated. "Dad doesn't like dogs much. They make him sneeze."

"Let's talk to him when we get you home, eh?"

"He'll make me give him back, won't he?"

"I don't think so, Simon. Now come on, we need to get out of here." Barbara wondered how the bomb squad were going downstairs.

"Okay."

She gently guided Simon ahead of her. In the dim light, she saw that his clothes were badly torn, and he had no shoes. They descended the first staircase easily, but Barbara knew the gap to the bottom floor would be impossible. These old buildings usually had a back staircase. Instead of going to the main stairs, Barbara led Simon along the wide corridor that reminded her of Howenstowe. She wished Tommy was here now.

They found the staircase. It was narrow and had walls on either side. If they were solid, even if steps had rotted away, Barbara thought she could edge them down. "Simon, this is an old house, and the stairs aren't very good. I think you should give me the puppy, and I'll put him in my coat and zip it up, so he's safe. Is that alright?"

Simon patted the puppy and then nodded. "You won't keep him, will you?"

"No, Simon. He's your puppy. I just don't want you to drop him and… lose him."

"Okay, Babra."

Babra? Oh well, she'd been called worse. She took the pup and pushed it gently into her inside pocket, then zipped up her coat. The pup barked at his mistreatment, but Barbara ignored it. The icy hand of fear was on her shoulder, and she suspected time was running out.

She held Simon's hand, and as they took each step, Barbara wedged one foot against the outer wall and held the handrail on the other side. She counted silently. 1… 2… 7… They were on the landing where the staircase turned. Ahead, the next section was almost black. Simon gripped her hand tighter, and the pup stopped moving.

15… 16… Her foot felt a wider tread, and as she stepped onto it, she saw they were standing in another corridor. Her eyes had adjusted to the dark, and a sliver of light from the end of the hall helped. "One more flight to go, Simon, then we're out of here."

"Okay. I'm scared."

"It's okay. I'll keep you safe." He squeezed his shoulder the same way Tommy had so often reassuringly squeezed hers.

They had gone down another six steps when it happened. The staircase shook, and the sound was deafening. Barbara could smell the smoke. It was time to abandon caution. She scooped Simon into her arms and ran down the stairs, praying that they would hold.

"Barbara?!"

Tommy reached the front driveway of the old pile. The house was alight. The radiant heat forced him to step back. Creaking, groaning, snapping, and falling timbers seemed to drown out the sound of the men around him. The Bomb Squad commander had gathered his men to the side. Uniformed officers stood staring at the mansion as it disintegrated before them.

"Has anyone seen Sergeant Havers?" Tommy yelled.

A uniformed officer stepped up to him. His unformed was singed, and his face streaked with black. "I'm sorry, sir. Sergeant Havers saw the boy in the attic. We… we couldn't stop her. She rushed in there a few minutes before the explosion. She… didn't come out. I'm sorry. We…"

Tommy felt his world implode. His last thought was how much he loved his sergeant. Then he tumbled to the ground.