Hey everyone! I am SO sorry about the delay in this update, my life has been pretty crazy lately. Thanks for all the lovely reviews and keep 'em coming! I've tried to fit a lot into this chapter to make up for the long delay so I hope you all like it. Please review and tell me your suggestions and feedback as they really do make my day.
Again, I'm really sorry for sort of abandoning fanfiction for a while and I hope you forgive me. Thanks for the support from reviewers, including those on facebook. Hopefully you won't have to wait as long for the next chapter xxx
Back at the office things were frantic. The man which Alex was meant to deliver to was called Toby Bartlett and he had been reported missing within 4 days of the botched delivery. Either Stoke had gotten to him, or hard-up junkie had found the money to go on holiday, and DCI Hunt found latter rather unlikely.
"Right, you lot," Gene barked across the office, "listen up! If we don't hurry up an' find Bartlett, we'll 'ave a murder investigation on our hands, so Chris and Shaz, go and search his flat again. Ray, go and visit the club again and try to find out who was the last to see him."
"Where you off, Gov?" Ray asked.
"Someone's gotta tell Bolly."
**
Gene swerved the Quattro, parking it roughly on the kerb in the same place he had dropped Alex off the first time. Chris had rang her and told Alex that the Gov would meet her there and she arrived just in time to see the magnificent manoeuvre. Alex climbed in the car, rubbing her hands together in an attempt to ward of the cold.
As Gene looked at her, his heart sank; she looked like any other slapper who worked in one of those sleazy bars. She looked haggard, and she smelled of stale booze. And, if he wasn't mistaken, there was a bruise beginning to form on the right side of her face.
"You look awful, Bolls."
"Cheers, Gov." Subtlety was never his strong point. "I'm just tired."
"Toby Bartlett, the guy you were s'posed to deliver to, he's… er, went missin'."
Alex put both hands to her face. "Shit."
"Exactly, an' we need t' find out what Stokes has done with 'im."
Alex bit her lip, biting back her urge to somehow defend Stoke. "Ok, I'll get it out of him."
There was a short silence before either of them spoke. "Alex, if things are getting too much, you need to let me get you out of there. Stoke is a grade A bastard and I don't like you being exposed like this."
"I'm fine, Gov, honestly. It's nothing I can't handle."
Gene reached over and grabbed Alex's hand, much to both of their surprise. "You don't 'ave to prove nothin', you know."
"I know, Gov. I'd better get back. Alastair wants to see me."
Alex released herself from Gene's hand and saw the unease in his eyes: she shouldn't have called him Alastair in front of Gene. She got out of the car and walked quickly back to the bar, not looking back in fear he would see her crying. The truth was, everything was a mess, but Alex couldn't bring herself to tell Gene what was really going on.
**
Gene arrived back at Fenchurch, his conversation with Alex still playing on his mind. He had decided it was time for plan B.
"Raymondo, a word in my office, please." Gene's voice was low and desperate which scared the team. Ray quickly obliged.
Ray closed the office door behind him and cautiously sat down. "What's up, Gov?" he said, trying to sound casual.
"I'm sending you in with Bolls, Ray. Something fishy's goin' on and Alex has clammed up."
"Why would she pretend everythin's fine when it isn't?"
"You know what women are like…" Ray gave a chuckle but soon stifled it as Gene looked him in the eye. "I think she's in danger but we can't afford to pull her out now. You'll be goin' in as security. Alex hasn't been told and it's unlikely she'll tell us anything new, so you'll need to do some snoopin'."
"Understood, Gov, I won't let you down."
Ray arrived at the club promptly for his shift. Smith had met him at the door and told him to circle the bar area and look out for any trouble. To his relief, he was quickly left to his own devices and decided he would start by looking for Alex. To his dismay, one of the bar staff said that Alex had spent most of her shift in Stoke's office. He thanked the barmaid and quickly made his exit, heading for the stairs leading up to Stoke and, hopefully, unharmed Alex.
**
Alex's head was already feeling light. She had only had three or four glasses and so did not see any reason to push Alastair's hand away when he offered her a fifth. Alex was sat in the corner of the largest velvet sofa in the office, trying very hard to look sober. Alastair sat down near her, his knee gently touching hers.
They had talked for hours about his childhood, his climb from nothing to infamy, her fictional house in the slums and her desire for wealth and power. She had laughed at his awful jokes and listened intently, hanging on his every word. Alex had forgotten Alastair the criminal; she was talking to Alastair the clever businessman.
There was now a silence, Alastair watching Alex drink another glass, waiting to make his move. She placed the empty glass on the nearby table, leaning forward but almost losing her balance. Alastair grabbed her arm and pulled her back onto the sofa, closer than she had been sitting before. He swept a curl of hair from Alex's face before continuing.
"You said you desire power, Alex. What do you think attracts you to it?"
"I don't think power attracts me on its own. For me, with power, comes danger and excitement."
"I see. I don't think you want any of that at all, Alex. You know what I think?" Alastair cupped Alex's face with his hand and leaned so that his mouth almost brushed her ear. "You want someone who is powerful."
Ray stood close to the office door but could hear nothing. The silence put him on edge and sent his mind into panic. He knew that Alex could hold her own in most situations, but also knew that this trait sometimes made her take things one step too far. If he attacked her, she would fight back; if he seduced her, she would fight back; if he admitted his crimes to her, she would confront him. But would she win?
He quietly tried the door handle: locked. He could knock, but what would he do when Stoke answered? He could kick the door in, but how would he explain that without blowing Alex's cover? Before he could rationalise anymore, he heard a noise, loud enough for him to hear over the pounding music from the floor below and through the locked door. It was woman's yell being muffled.