"BODIE!" Doyle tore himself from Thea's clinging hands and threw himself on his knees next to his partner, rolling him on his back and trying to listen to his heart.
"I'm all right." Incredibly, Bodie was speaking to him in a whisper and Doyle raised his head, looking into the deep blue eyes that opened for a second, then closed again. "Don't let on," Bodie went on, urgently but so softly that Doyle could barely hear him.
The bond between them had always been almost psychic, and the curly-haired man understood immediately. Whoever these men were, whatever they wanted, there was a chance to stop them as long as they thought Bodie was incapacitated. Doyle glared at the shooter. "You bastard!"
The man said calmly, "Are you armed as well?" Doyle slowly took out his gun and laid it on the floor. "That is good. How badly is your friend hurt?"
Doyle realized with a chill that Bodie was not unscathed. Blood was pooling on the floor and he felt for a pulse, then said coldly, "He could be dying. I need to call an ambulance."
"No ambulance." The other man came forward, holding Thea by the arm. "Do you have an office?"
She nodded and pointed to a door in the corner. "There's a sofa in there."
The man gestured at Bodie, saying to Doyle, "Pick up your friend."
Doyle pulled Bodie up and half-carried him over to the office. As Thea opened the door, the stranger waved them in, then followed, his eyes running over the room. There was no back door. He went over to the curtains hanging over the single window and pulled them back. The window had bars and he tugged on them, nodding with satisfaction, then drew the curtains shut. A phone stood on the desk, and he ripped it out of the wall. There was a long leather sofa, and Doyle settled Bodie on this, asking Thea, "Do you have a first aid kit?"
She nodded and went to a cabinet, bringing back a large box, while Doyle checked his partner. There was a gash on Bodie's left upper arm, bleeding freely but not serious. Doyle bandaged it tightly, then opened Bodie's shirt. A thick gold coin hanging from a chain had been dented from the force of the bullet it had deflected. Doyle swallowed hard, closed the shirt, and asked Thea, "Any blankets?"
She went back to the cabinet and got two tablecloths. "Will these do?"
"Thanks." Doyle covered Bodie and brought a chair over to the sofa.
"What are you two?" asked the man with the gun. "You can't be cops. Cops in Britain don't carry guns."
"Army," said Doyle sullenly, seating himself next to Bodie. "We're on leave before deployment."
"And you're carrying your weapons? Isn't that a breach of regulations?"
"Report us." Doyle felt Bodie's hand grip his warningly and he said in a more civil tone, "What are you here for?"
"You'll find out." The man came over and took Doyle by the arm, dragging him to his feet. "Nobody else has to get hurt as long as you all do what you're told. Let's go."
"Wait!" Doyle tugged on his arm. "He can't be by himself! What if he takes a turn for the worse?"
The stranger went over to Bodie and put the gun to his head. "Maybe I should just put him out of his misery. It's a shame to let him suffer."
"No!" Doyle went over to the door. "I'll do what you want."
The man hesitated, then said to Thea, "Move."
"Let her stay with him," said Doyle quickly. "She's just a girl. You don't want some kid out there, getting hysterical and messing things up." Thea's eyes flashed, and Doyle looked at her, willing her to understand. "What can she do? There's no way out and you destroyed the phone. Please."
"All right, she can stay." The man looked meaningfully at Doyle. "No tricks. You try anything, I'll just shoot all three of you. Do you understand?"
Doyle looked at Bodie and saw a slight nod from his partner. "I understand."