Sorry for the delay on this chapter! Hopefully the updates will be more frequent over the next two weeks! I'm glad that people are reading it and taking the time to review! Thank you so much.

When the sun rose the next morning, everybody was already in CID. It was unusual for the station to be teeming with life before nine o'clock in the morning, but today it had just gone seven o'clock, and already people were working in full flow. Ray and Chris were stuffing the last of the paper into the two briefcases that were sitting, open on a desk. Chris stopped what he was doing and nudged Ray.

"Look…" Chris indicated through the glass wall that separated their DCI from them. "D'you think 'e's alright?"

Gene Hunt sat with his back to the rest of the room, his chair swivelled round so that his inferiors couldn't see his face. He seemed slumped and exhausted when he had arrived that morning, but determined all the same. They had never had an officer who had been take hostage for more than about an hour and Alex's absence seemed to be taking a profound effect upon the whole department.

Ray shrugged and lit another cigarette.

"I dunno" he replied, turning to Chris. "There's been no call yet."

"Why does the Guv trust this Evan bloke to ring?" Chris wondered.

"Cos 'e knows that the scumbag wants the money. Plus, he trusts DI Drake." Ray said under his breath.

"Not that 'e'll ever admit it." Chris agreed. "'Ere, have you seen the way he looks at…"

But Chris stopped abruptly as the Manc Lion himself came out of his office. He was scowling, as usual, and he peered around his domain.

"You poofs got the cases ready then?"

"I really don't understand how this is gonna work." said Chris.

Ray rolled his eyes exasperatedly. "I told you yesterday!"

"Well you didn't explain it very well then did you?"

"You're just too much of a nancy-boy to understand the simplest of concepts!"

A loud, shrill ringing interrupted Chris and Ray's bantering. Both of them simultaneously turned to look through the DCI's office door to where a red telephone sat on the desk, demanding to be answered. Gene made no hesitations as he swiftly moved to pick it up off of the base. He held it forcefully to his ear.

"Hunt." He announced gruffly.

"Gene?" her voice was small and very weak so that Gene had to strain his ears to hear her. "Is that you, Gene?"

"Yeah, Bolls…it's me. You alright?"

She didn't reply and Gene could hear muffling in the background. Alex's breath sounded short, sharp and shallow. Her voice was desperate. He didn't like this one bit.

"Sixty-four Havant Street."

Gene ed up a notepad and pen, and frantically scribbled the address.

"You sure?" he asked.

"Yes. I can't say more Gene." She replied, her voice lacking that usual defiance and…life. "Quick." She added hurriedly before there was a loud thump from her end of the line, a short yelp, and the phone clicked to the dialling tone.

"Drake? Bolly? Bolly? Alex?" Gene swallowed and slowly replaced the receiver back on the base. He stood upright, grabbed the scrap of paper he had made the note on and went back out to join Chris and Ray.

"Right. Here's what's going to happen." DCI Hunt announced, resuming his usual demeanour.

However, once again, the phone rang. That couldn't be Drake again, could it? Evan wouldn't let her call the station again? The phone continued to ring.

"Guv?"

Gene blinked and walked over to pick up the phone.

"Yes?"

"Detective Chief Inspector Hunt?"

"Who wants to know?" Gene growled.

"This is Robert Morris from forensics. Sir, we have results back that you are going to want to see."

Ray and Chris watched the Guv put down the telephone, pick up his heavy black overcoat and stride back out to meet them.

"Right...Christopher, Raymundo? Initiate the plan. Take Ray's motor, Chris here can barely see over the wheel."

Chris looked momentarily hurt, before he looked up to see that there was nearly a foot difference in height between him and his DCI. The DS shrugged in resignation.

"What 'bout you Guv?"

"I'll be there. Just gotta stop off somewhere first."

"But..." However, Gene Hunt had already pushed past his subordinates and out of the building.

Alex Drake squeezed her eyes shut. She felt tears leak out unconsciously. It had been a pretty rough night. The floor was cold, hard concrete with no mercy, and consequently, her back was stiff and achy. The sack was not completely opaque and so fuzzy shafts of light could be made out at the edges of it. She was exhausted. The ordeal had left her physically and mentally drained. The shock had been that Evan was capable of all this betrayal and deception, and for Alex not to have picked up on it.

The sudden sound of nearing footsteps appeared and Alex winced as her vision was plunged into light. She blinked reflexively and choked a little as the gag was wrenched out of her mouth painfully. The tall, skinny figure of Evan stood before her. Except he didn't look the same. Not at all. His hair was greasy, his beard had been left to grow, and his eyes were dark and sunken. He pulled his lips so thin that they became merely a single line. Evan thrust a bottle of water to his hostage's lips. Alex pulled back immediately.

"No." She gasped, wary of what was in the bottle.

Evan scowled and brought it to his own lips, drinking a considerable amount. He then forced Alex to drink the liquid. The water was disgustingly warm but Alex gulped greedily, her parched dry lips taking salvation from the contents of the bottle. But before she could even swallow three times, Evan had pulled the bottle away. He didn't say a word, his stare fixed on her and a sly smile played across his face as he turned the container upside down. Alex watched with desperation as the precious liquid glugged out and created a widespread puddle on the filthy warehouse concrete floor.

"I don't understand. This isn't..."

"Oh, shut up Drake. Don't even begin to give me all of your psychology garbage."

"But this isn't you Evan! You aren't like this!" Alex exclaimed angrily.

"Stop talking like you know me. You don't at all! You know absolutely nothing about me Alex Drake. You're just an interfering tart who can't keep her stuck-up nose out of other people's business. Eventually you knew it had to end in tears. Just grow up Alex! Welcome to the real world! It can't always be solved with psychology and analysis. That's exactly why you're in this position! Stop playing around with your dollies and getting in the way!"

Alex blinked.

"Molly?" She whispered. "Did you say 'Molly'?"

Evan stared ludicrously at her.

"What? No! Oh, God...she's finally lost it! No wonder Hunt can't keep control of you."

"No. I just...no. What's the time?" Alex swallowed.

"Doesn't matter. But you better start hoping your friends will turn up with the money some time soon though."

"They will."

"You need to realise who you can trust, Alex." Evan laughed cruelly.

The scene seemed to rewind. The bullet shot back into the gun and Layton lowered his aim before walking backwards. Jumbled clips, like old movie reels, played out in her mind. It skipped to Layton on his mobile phone. Tell her the truth. The clown appeared, like a ghost. Tell her why her parents never saw their daughter's tenth birthday or her first driving 

lesson, or her graduation day. The day she joined the police force, the day she gave birth to Molly; their granddaughter. Tell her why.

Alex bit her lip and met Evan's gaze.

"It was you." She breathed. "You were on the phone to him."

"What?"

"You were on the phone to him. A piece of my past, he said." Alex couldn't believe it. "What do you need the money for?"

But Evan ed his head. He had just heard the sound of a car pulling up outside.

"Quiet!" he hissed and moved over to shove the gag forcefully back into her mouth. Her wrists were still tied together; the rope had now created deep, dark bruises. Swollen and throbbing.