Sultan Street

Fry and Dave were first on the scene, Chas hard on their heels.

"The attacker, that way… Dempsey is in pursuit." Harry all but yelled at the two younger men who took off.

All have beaten the ambulance. Harry looked up with a spare glance as her attention moved from her boss. Chas crouched down with wide eyes.

"I don't know." Harry said in answer to the question she knew was forming. For all the rough times they'd been through, the risk of placing Dempsey with her and numerous other misgivings, she respected Spikings. She tried to keep her cool.

"The attacker." Chas asked but his words were lost as the ambulance screeched around the corner with lights flashing.

"I didn't see, Dempsey might have a better look." Harry said and then found herself moved away as the paramedics took over. She told them all she could and looked up the street, wondering about her partner.

Sultan Street side street

After a lot of pushing, shoving and tugging, somehow he managed to get Dempsey into the car seat. One leg still trailed outside the vehicle, and his head fell back between the two seats, but it was a start. He hadn't considered how tall Dempsey was and how much muscle there was to move.

Owen paused to gasp for breath, rubbing at aching elbows and scraped knees, and bruises that would decorate his body in the morning. However, he considered it a small price to pay, only a small measure of the salvation still to come.

Dempsey groaned and began to shift, his head falling back until Owen reached over and caught him. Trying to hold the American upright, careful of the wound trickling blood down through the thick dark hair and onto his skin, Owen found and released the control for the seat. Pushing it down as far as it would go, he carefully levered Dempsey into a recumbent position, and moved his left leg into the car.

Dempsey groaned again, thick eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. Owen soothed him with a careful touch and soft words. As much to reassure himself as the man beside him. He wasn't meant to end up like this, neither of them, but he would have to make the best of it.

"I'm going to take care of you, just rest. I'll take care of you," He promised as he retrieved the blanket from the back seat and wrapped it around Dempsey's body.

Dempsey felt the quiet comfort of a voice in his ear and the hands on his head, and he settled down with a soft sigh, and a whisper of the one name he had come to associate with care..."Harry..." he breathed before his eyelids settled and he fell back into the soothing darkness.

Owen jerked in response, his entire body tensing and then releasing. Of course, he realised, of course. Who else would Dempsey call for but her - his Mary Magdalene? The woman who had redeemed him. It was only right, for soon enough Dempsey would be returned to her arms. Shrugging off his coat, he tucked it under the man's head, then carefully closed the car door.

Guy's and St Thomas Hospital

The search for Dempsey and the suspect was city wide. Dave and Fry stayed on the case, with all SI-10 officers allocated to the case. Chas found time to go to the hospital where he found Harriet Makepeace in the corridor with red eyes and a pale face. One hand clutched a cold coffee and the other the side of her chair. She rose to her feet as Chas approached.

"Did… have…"

He was already shaking his head to spare her the effort and pain of asking anything else.

She took a deep breath which juddered her slight frame. Not for the first time, Chas was certain that what he had assumed about them was true, as she deflated before his very eyes and sat down. He waited for her to find the words.

"I didn't see the suspect. He was about my height, and Spikings was down, I didn't think it was right to go with Dempsey…" Chas heard her voice crack on his name. "Spikings has concussion and a cracked skull with multiple cuts. They're running a scan to see if there's any more damage to his head. Then they'll operate if they need to. His wife is on the way."

She sipped her coffee and looked up at him. "He took Dempsey, didn't he?"

Chas shrugged. "It's still a possibility, but we have everyone out over London. All staff have been called in."

"I need to help." She looked surprised at his hand on her shoulder keeping her in place.

He spoke first, to temper her response. He knew it would be sharp. "Let us do our jobs. When Mrs S turns up, she'll need you here. I promise… "

"No." Her voice was like marble. "Dempsey is my partner. If he's going to talk to anyone, he'll want to speak to me."

"All the more reason to be in one place…" Chas swallowed, unable to say the words that sat between them.

"Nobody possibly thinks that he…" She looked briefly unable to comprehend the outcome. "Dempsey was with me, he came to my house and told me that he thought Spikings was at risk. I saw the man who attacked our boss and it wasn't Dempsey, he'd never…."

She placed her hand over her heart and it fluttered down to her lap. For one moment he thought she'd would cry or vomit. She seems to gain strength from the movement and stood up.

"No, no I'm sure they don't." Chas soothed quickly. "Feelings are high, as you know. People are upset."

"Not as upset as they'll be when I find that Dempsey is injured or worse…." She paused, and then in a tone so icy, he shivered, she continued, "not as upset as everyone will be if Dempsey is dead because they're too busy using him as scapegoat instead of looking for the bastard who kidnapped him."

Chas took a moment, she was terrifyingly accurate. "Not everyone thinks Dempsey is.."

"a violent, untrustworthy maverick?" She countered. "Or a brilliant detective and inspired, loyal partner?"

"We take care of our own and he's one of ours too." Chas said as he realised she'd given him the words he needed to get the team focussed. "We'll find him."

XXXXX

Harry vowed to stay until Spikings' wife arrived and then go back to SI-10. Be useful and not be the tea maker. As much as Harry liked her boss's wife, she didn't know her that well and was conscious she wasn't the strong support she ought to be.

She sat for a moment, racking through her memories of her conversations with Dempsey, hearing his voice in her head. She visualised the notes they had made. The urge to leave and search was overwhelming but she realised that she had no clue where to start. The thought stung her. There was, frustratingly nothing she could offer.

It threw her that anyone could think he was capable of these killings. Dempsey had a temper that he used wisely, rarely without good reason and a core of steel willpower that she admired from the start, however much he had irritated her. He could be fierce in his summary of anyone who wronged another but if only they could see him with victims. His easy charm that made him a magnet to women and children, came into play. It was this that had compelled her to see past his brash and defensiveness.

"Oh please, Dempsey, where are you." She moaned and tried to hold back hot tears.