Sharp eyes watched them. The Postman wants leverage, what better leverage than Turner's girlfriend.

Stu held Jo's hand until the very last second. The separating of their entwined fingers was unbearable to him, but he held himself together to be strong for Jo. She's been through more than enough with this. If he had had the slightest suspicion that this was what he would be putting his best friend through, he would have refused point blank to have anything to do with this useless scheme. Superintendent or no Superintendent. He'd allowed himself to be flattered at the thought, and agreed, then he'd heard the plan and realised that, in effect, there was no plan. This was a fishing expedition with precious little real chance of a catch. The idea of being seen to do something was uppermost in Heaton's mind, and since Stuart had previous history with Trevor Jones he'd been chosen.

He gritted his teeth, he'd allowed his own competitiveness and arrogance to sucker him into this mess. Now the most important person in his life was paying the price. Pull your finger out Turner, she needs you to be there. A painful memory of another time, another place and another woman was haunting the back of his mind. He had failed Sam, he would not fail Jo. And he had a feeling, a very bad feeling. He'd seen one of the guards just a little too close and a little too interested in him and Jo. Stu replayed their half hour together in his mind, and tried to tune into the bits that were outside of him and Jo. It wasn't just himself at risk.

He had to get to a phone.

Neil looked out of the window in Jack's office. Heaton would be joining them for a progress update in a moment and at last there was some movement. Neil raised an eyebrow, and slightly sour smile crossed his impassive features. DS Stuart Turner had friends, and those friends were digging hard for answers. They were going to have to let most of the team in on the secret, Stu's neck was on the line.

He looked across at Jack, who was watching Jo. She looked pale and tired, and very distressed. Neil felt for her. She was being put under enormous strain for this, and if they had known how involved Jo and Stuart were... He shook his head, Heaton had wanted Stuart because of Stu's previous history with The Postman. The emotional complications of Stu's relationship with Jo wouldn't have mattered.

Neil turned back to the window, and wondered exactly what the relationship between DC Jo Masters, out and proud, and DS Stuart Turner, cocky smoothie, really was. She was pregnant by him. Jo had told them that. Neil had also witnessed the look that passed between them as the court officers had taken Stuart down to the cells, the flash of complete panic on Stu's face and the answering lifting of Jo's chin, to which he had responded like a puppet on a string. However unlikely the affair, suddenly with Jo's revelation all the little puzzle pieces in Neil's head fit together and there was no doubt in his mind that Stuart Turner and Jo Masters loved each other. Having had some experience himself in the torn apart feeling of being forcibly separated, he felt for what they were obviously going through.

He also felt slightly sick for his part in putting them through it. He looked across at Jo again, putting Stuart through the wringer was one thing, Stu was a lot tougher than most people would give him credit for, Neil sensed that. But Jo was pregnant, and clearly very tired and emotional. She had visited Stu that morning and had been a bit tearful when she had come back, even though she had tried to hide it, and if Stu now knew that Jo was pregnant, which Neil suspected was the case, his anxiety levels would be through the roof right now, and he stood far greater chance of making a mistake and getting hurt because of it. Taking it all into account, the stress inflicted on the team, the burden on Jo and Stuart, and the fact that Stu had already been attacked in the showers once, and that they had exactly nothing to show for it, Neil wanted to pull Stuart out. The team's welfare was more important than this ridiculous charade.

"We have exactly nothing." He turned around and looked at Jack, "and every minute that we leave Stuart in there increases the chances of something going wrong." Neil looked down at the floor to hide the anger in his eyes, "it's Stuart's life that's at risk, for this. And it's pulling the team apart."

"I know."

"Guv, we have to pull him out."

Jack leaned forward. He really hated the idea from the first, he didn't like exposing his team to unnecessary risk. And it was Stuart Turner's neck on the line. Something that Heaton seemed to have forgotten; Jack had heard all about the shower incident, and was slightly surprised at his sergeant, he wouldn't have expected Stuart to defend himself as well as he had. The governor had been quite angry about it, and Heaton had responded, a politician to his fingertips.

Politics. That's what the relationship between Heaton and the public boiled down to. It was Jack and his team that were in the front line with uniform. There was no room for politics. Their job was to protect the public.

"I know. Stuart's got nothing particularly useful, and the longer he's there the greater the risk."

"He knew the risk when he accepted." Heaton's voice. The two men looked up.

Heaton closed the door behind him. "Stuart Turner knew the risks when he accepted the job." he sat down in front of Jack. "And whilst I am not happy with his way of going about things, he seems to have established a good role for himself."

"With all due respect, Sir." Neil's tone was dry and to Heaton's ears did not sound particularly respectful, "Stuart defended himself from a beating. He had no choice. And if they had managed to injure him seriously, this would all be over now." and in a perverse way, I wish it was.

"Well it shows that we have Trevor Jones running scared."

"Sir. It doesn't. Stuart's a copper. There isn't a lag in that jail that doesn't know that. Therefore Stuart's life is at risk. Now the attack may show that Trevor Jones is interested in trying to "turn" Stuart to his advantage, but it could also mean nothing of the kind. We still do not know Jones' connection to the outside. Without that, we cannot shut him down." Neil sighed heavily, the stress of all of this, and the emotions were getting to him. "We also have another problem. Half the team are digging around trying to get information that might "help" Stuart." try a bit of flattery, aportion the blame a little "We underestimated Stuart's place in the team, he has a lot of friends, who are very determined to dig him out of this mess. The mistake we've made is in not telling them all sooner, before someone exposes the cover story as a fake and it gets back to the prison."

Stevie Moss checked the address in her notebook, and crossed the road to the shop. Well Ms D lets see who you are. She pushed open the door.

A woman, probably late thirties, was arranging flowers in a bouquet, and Stevie paused for a second to admire it, all creams and burnished copper, it was a beautiful arrangement.

She showed her warrant card and explained about what she was looking for, spinning a yarn to the Florist that her friend had been receiving these mysterious deliveries and that she didn't know the identity of D, and that it was worrying her. The florist smiled, "the customer said that someone may come wanting to know more, and that I should hand this to anyone who asked." She pulled out an envelope from under the desk and handed it to Stevie.

Stevie opened the envelope and peered inside. It was a single sheet of paper, with four words neatly typed in the middle of it. Stevie huffed with frustration. BETTER LUCK NEXT TIME.

"Can you tell me anything about the customer?" she tried charm, "male or female, age, height etc."

"The customer was most particular, and has paid cash." The florist was polite but firm, and Stevie had no choice but to back out with as much grace as she could muster.

Jack bent over his paperwork, trying to ignore the little warning voice in his head that said that Stuart and Jo were both in trouble. Something felt wrong. If pushed he couldn't have said what. But a lifetime's experience said that something was brewing. He watched Jo out of his office window. It was the end of the day, she was very tired, and she looked ready to break. There was a greyness to her skin tone that he'd never seen before. She looked defeated.

For a moment he pondered the true nature of the relationship with Stuart and Jo. She was an out and proud gay cop, he was distinctly heterosexual, and with quite an eye for blonde, petite ladies. Jo was none of those things, but clearly Stuart saw something in her that went deeper than his usual aesthetic sense. Jack had no doubt in his mind that this unlikely affair was born of love. Neither Jo nor Stuart would have made such a radical change in their personal preferences without a very strong imperative. They had found faith, hope and trust in each other and he wished them luck. He'd seen enough destruction and misery, and failed relationships to wish this very unconventional pair all the joy in the world. If we can just get them through this.

He thought about the briefing that had just taken place. Looking round the room at the faces of his team, he realised that it wasn't just Stuart's safety that they were talking about. It was the cohesion of his tough, intuitive and experienced team. He studied each face. Several of them looked quite annoyed by the time Heaton had finished speaking. The look on Samantha Nixon's face struck him most forcibly of all. Sam looked at first relieved, then guilty, then mildly shame-faced. She had been ready to believe the worst of Stuart. Jack couldn't decide if he thought less of Sam for having such thoughts, or less of Stuart for inspiring them.

Thinking was starting to drive him slightly crazy, his mind buzzing with alternative scenarios. He felt old, and tired, and lonely. Perhaps it was his own loneliness. He thought about his spartan little flat. Smart, stylishly furnished, even trendy. But not much to show for his fifty three years on the planet. Wife, gone. Son, gone. A bleak emptiness tugged at the edges of his existence.

He sat back in his chair and watched as they packed up for the end of the day. Terry dumped three files into Stuart's in-tray, with a pointed glare in the direction of Jack's office. Jack caught the glare and understood the message clearly. Stuart was one of them, and they would back him to the hilt.

Someone knocked at his door, and Jack roused himself from his reverie. "Come in." The door opened, and Sam Nixon entered, with Phil Hunter in tow.

"Yes."

Phil spoke "Guv, I think you have a problem. Special Ops picked up one of our targets two hours ago, and intercepted a message I think you're going to want to know about."

Jack looked puzzled.

Sam cleared her throat. She was feeling a little shaky. "It's about Stuart, guv. They know he's a plant."

Phil looked at him. "Trevor Jones has a mobile that one of the prison officers holds for him. That's why you've never found his contact to the outside, it's one of the officers. We've nicked Trevor's runner, they will know for certain that Stuart is a plant. You need to pull him out, and quickly." He looked down at the floor, and swallowed, "and that's not all, one of the messages was about his girlfriend, someone needs to get to her and quickly."

That feeling was stronger than ever. Jack surged to his feet, grabbed his jacket, yanking open the door, he looked around the room. "Max, I need you. Neil?" his DI appeared from the doorway out, "Neil, get round to Jo's now. Find her. The rest of you, we're going to Longmarsh Prison, now!" He grabbed Phil "You're coming with us?"

Phil nodded, "of course." He had the grace to look shamefaced "Guv, I thought Stuart was..."

"I know."

None of that mattered, if they didn't get to Stuart sharpish, being sorry wouldn't cut much ice.