With thanks to all readers, especially Firebird & Feebee ...
"Shit, what…?" Max stood frozen to the spot, watching his own car speed erratically towards the open gates, then come to an abrupt standstill as two minibuses attempted to enter, hampered by Millie taking up the middle of the exit. Seeing his chance, he set off quickly down the ramp but only managing to take a few steps when his phone rang, slowing his momentum. He answered automatically, without checking the screen. "Carter!" he barked, impatient at the interruption.
"Guv? It's Roger."
The older man's tone, usually so smoothly calm, was unusually agitated. It was the last thing Max needed to have to deal with right now. For a split second he considered whether to tell Roger to call Manson, whatever it was. But something made him check his gut reaction and hear the man out, providing he was quick about it. "Yeah, what is it?"
"Fleischmann has left the house."
"What?" exclaimed Max, struggling to divide his concentration on the call with reaching Millie before she managed to negotiate a way round the minibuses. His gearbox crunched painfully and the car shot back a couple of feet to give the first obstructing vehicle space to inch forward and create some space for Millie to escape before the second came in. He watched helplessly as she manoeuvred the car between them seemingly without consideration for either paint or bodywork.
"I er, had to … well, you know, and while I was out of the room he must have taken off. I'm sorry."
Max swore inwardly, but more at the situation he had to deal with than Roger's confession. Recrimination could come later. Somewhere behind him, Stevie's distinct cackle fought for his already fractured attention and he tried to shrug off the unwelcome intervention, tried to focus on what was important. Millie was taking off in a big hurry, or at least was trying to, after taking a clandestine phone call and Georgie had done a similarly devious disappearing act. If the two were linked … He swore again, this time audibly, imagining the various reasons, none of them good. A set of tryes screeched, the wheels spinning in frustrating empathy with the driver as Millie finally was given enough space to flee the yard. Stevie finally drew level, still giggling at something Terry next to her must have said or done, prompting Max to hang up on Roger with neither explanation nor goodbye. "Give me your keys," he snapped at Stevie, instantly silencing her laughter and earning himself a questioning stare from Terry, which Max chose to ignore.
"Eh? Wha…?" Stevie began, surprised.
He didn't wait for her to finish and snatched them out of her hovering hand without any attempt to justify his curt demand, leaving Stevie and Terry to watch with bewilderment as he raced towards the blue Vauxhall.
"Now, even for Max, that's not normal," murmured Terry while Max pulled open the car door and threw himself inside.
"Wasn't that Millie in his car?" queried Stevie as Max pulled out of the parking space aggressively and sped out of the yard. "What the hell is going on?"
-oo-
The same thought had also occurred to Millie, duelling for supremacy with concern fear for her mother's safety. Having dealt with the minibus, she now found herself caught at temporary lights no more than a hundred yards from the station. Three men in high visibility jackets stood staring blankly down a hole, surrounded by flimsy safety barricades. Poorly planned roadworks. According to Max, it was the third time in as many months that this particular stretch had been dug up. Workmen standing around ineptly - Max's most hated source of irritation, or one of them anyway, and guaranteed to make him fly into a rage during which Millie would find herself struggling to supress her giggles when his irascibility reached comedic proportions. Not every time though. Sometimes, and lately more often, when her mind was burdened with mounting worry and exhaustion of the job, because in Max's less than helpful assessment she got too involved, his explosive outburst would bring out the worst in her, not unlike the night before, and she would refuse to allow him the last word. Then he would have to fall into silence for fear of making everything worse. Of course later he'd make amends, soothing away with words and deeds of intimacy the anxiety which was increasingly difficult for either to ignore.
Millie thought on as the lights remained stubbornly red despite the inactivity ahead of her, recalling the sacrifice that he had offered on the bathroom floor, wondering how serious was that offer and whether he could really go through with it. One of the men, his trousers slug low around his sunburn streaked fleshy hips, looked up and catching her eye as she glared at the scene, he winked lasciviously. She felt her top lip curl involuntarily in disgust and quickly shifted her attention back to the traffic lights, willing them to change colour so that she could just get on with her journey. But the lights were not on her side and her thoughts turned to the immediate matter in hand. Just what the hell did she think she was doing? Arranging to meet Georgie as he in turn had arranged to meet a kidnapper and murderer. Somehow, back in the safety of the station, she had believed herself invincible; adrenaline fuelled her determination to take charge when no one else had an answer. This had seemed no less frightening than her own abduction or indeed any of the other life-threatening situations she had found herself in over the years. Yet, sitting here gripping the steering wheel so that she didn't notice her trembling hands and waiting obediently for the lights to change, she felt exposed, her former assurance ebbing from her veins.
Finally the lights did change. With relief she carefully put the car into gear and pulled away, grateful also to be free of the leering glances of now all three workshy labourers. The meeting point was on the other side of Canley. With lights and sirens blazing it might have taken less than ten minutes, but Millie carefully obeyed the rules of the road, forcing herself to drive sensibly even though it would double the time of her journey. It wasn't a case of delay tactics, more that her natural sobriety now came to the fore and that careless driving would only jeopardise her chances of getting to Georgie before Antonov got to him.
-oo-
The short distance to St Hugh's was covered surprisingly quickly, this stretch of Canley for once unblighted by road works. While it was beneficial in terms of getting to their destination quickly, it gave Suzie limited opportunity to figure out how to deal with Tommy's sullen behaviour. "This is ridiculous," she muttered finally as they pulled into the car park.
"Yup."
Suzie blinked, confused by his monosyllabic reply for a moment. "No, I mean you are being ridiculous."
"And how have you come to that conclusion?"
"You're not talking to me! It's childish."
"Yes, I am."
"Not properly," her voice took on a whining tone borne out of exasperation with a man who clearly felt wronged but equally clearly should know better.
"Now who sounds childish?" Instantly he felt bad for the retort, especially as she was right. He was doing his best to avoid any conversation. "You and Manson held out on us. You held out on me," he finished quietly glancing quickly to see Suzie chewing her lower lip. "If we'd known about the Hammond link sooner, we might have prevented this. Some of it anyway."
Suzie knew he was referring to Sondra's abduction. It occurred to her that nobody seemed to have been very affected by Carly's demise, with the exception of her father, but it was different with Sondra. The pain of her disappearance was felt so acutely by Max and Millie that it was difficult to treat this woman as just another case in a wider operation, as no more than a piece of the jigsaw that she and Neil had spent the last couple of years putting together. It made it personal for everybody at Sun Hill, and she didn't do personal, especially if it meant everything she and Neil had been working towards would come apart at the seams and take them back to square one. At least she hadn't though she did personal. And, it was made all the more testing that Tommy, whom she had so terrifyingly fallen for, was on the other side, looking out for what passed for a family to him. A dysfunctional, openly suspicious family, but that was what he had been brought up on after all. It was no surprise that he didn't know any better, Suzie mused, before realising that the same theory could easily be applied to her. She looked at him, catching his eye for a moment before he turned back to the road. He was looking out for his little tribe just as she had been doing for Neil for years. She felt like a fraud, for so long telling herself that it was enough, that Neil needed her, even in the light of recent developments in his life which left her hanging on by mere threads.
"We didn't know about Hammond." Tommy snorted his derision at her denial. "We didn't!" she exclaimed emphatically, hurt that he could think so little of her. "I didn't."
The hurt came out in her voice and Tommy found it hard not to relent. "Did Manson?" Suzie didn't reply, whether because she didn't know, or didn't want to admit, he couldn't be sure. Her hesitation troubled him, this deep set loyalty that she didn't seem to know how to operate without. Except last night when wine and Baileys had loosened the ties with her boss. She was operating pretty well until that second bottle. In the silence between them, compassion gradually seeped in, winning the battle over the disappointment that had initially taken hold. "Ah, I don't suppose it makes much difference now," he murmured, albeit grudgingly.
"It does to me. At least, it matters to me what you think. I know it's only been a few days but ... it does ..." she paused for a moment, summoning up up every ounce of her confidence to carry on, "and I think it does to you as well."
Tommy's breath hitched for a moment at her unexpected honesty. And bravery. She wasn't to know whether he would rebuff her, laugh at her, and continue with his punishing rejection of her entreaty. It took a bloody strong woman to speak her mind like that, to take the risk. "Okay. Okay. Truce?" he offered softly.
She nodded, relieved to have gone some way to recovering lost ground with this infuriating man, even if he hadn't quite gone so far as to confirm that believed her, let alone that he felt the same way. "So," she took a deep breath, letting that one go for now, "what's your plan? With this guy?"
"Haven't actually got one," he grinned, maddeningly in Suzie's opinion. There was something in those twinkling blue eyes which made her instantly, willingly, blind to his many failings. It was no good, she discovered, caution had long been thrown to the wind. "I was kind of hoping you might pull something out of the bag. Perhaps you could use some of your intelligence. Your SOCA intelligence, that is," he clarified slowly. The flirtation was back on. "You know, give him a scare, threaten deportation or to drop him in it with the mob. That sort of thing. It's what you're good at."
Suzie bristled defensively. But it was only for show, feeling secretly pleased to be back to where they had been at the beginning of the day. "I'm not some sort of ignorant thug you know."
"Did I say that?" responded Tommy innocently. "I'd never say anything like that. I wouldn't dare."