“Because you tasered half the bloody custody block!” Nancy called from the row in front.
Scowling, Oliver unclipped his seatbelt and adjusted his stab vest. “Well, it significantly shortened the siege, didn’t it?”
Lucas cocked an eyebrow. “You had a siege? In West Newton custody?”
“Oh yes,” Oliver nodded. “One of the prisoners broke the ceiling tiles in his cell. Pulled all the wires loose, which opened every cell door at once. It’s why they’ve gone back to a good old-fashioned lock and key. In fact, I think your lot had to come up on mutual aid because we were over-run with prisoners.”
“When was that?” Lucas asked, unclipping his own belt.
“About five years ago. Why?”
“Because—” Lucas hesitated, scrubbing a hand over his five o’clock shadow. “Because Joshua had to assist a countryside force with a prisoner siege back when we were in firearms. I was on another job at the time so he had to go with our Inspector.”
Oliver’s brows pulled together as he searched the depths of his mind for memories of that day. He’d remembered the almighty adrenaline rush when the booming voice of the custody sergeant sounded over the tannoy. “AFFRAY IN CUSTODY, ASSISTANCE REQUIRED.”
The call for cross-force aid rang out across the control rooms, and two hours later, a serial of Metropolitan and Bedfordshire officers arrived. West Newton was a tiny police station compared to the cities, but its custody block was the largest of all the countryside forces. Lots of prisoners and very few police officers did not make for a safe environment. TheHome Office had practically chopped the custody suite in half after the incident.
“Heh, small world,” Oliver said, playfully slapping Lucas’ shoulder. “Anyway, jokes on both of you because they’ll have to let me carry a taser if I become a sergeant.”
“God help us all,” Nancy replied, leaning over the chair to smack the back of his head.
Onlookers were already gatheringas the two riot vans descended on the town of Tintern-on-Wye. Oliver shivered, catching sight of the clock tower outside the swimming baths, and he found it difficult not to picture Alfie standing there all alone. It was trulyamazingjust how much shit people would ignore for a quiet life.
“Are we going to have our hands full here?” Oliver asked, tuning his own radio to the correct channel.
“Quite possibly,” Lucas said, pulling on a police-issue baseball cap. “But you’re staying by the van, got it?”
Tutting, Oliver pulled on two pairs of blue latex gloves and gathered the evidence bags into an untidy pile. “Yeah, because leaving me by the van worked outsowell last time.”
Standing, Lucas tugged Oliver up by the elbow and spun him around to shield them from the rest of the group. His fingers gripped Oliver’s arm as he planted a rough kiss on the top of his head. “Do as you’re told, Reed, or I’ll see to it you can’t sit down tomorrow.”
“Is that a threat?” Oliver purred, pushing his face into Lucas’ neck.
“A promise.”
The strike teamflooded the property from the front and back. “Bravo delta, strike,” Lucas called over the radio. Sidney swung the heavy metal battering ram into the front door, sending it flying off its hinges in a maelstrom of splintered wood. Oliver could hear Blake’s team giving the rear door the same treatment.
“See ya later, loser,” Nancy said, handcuffs at the ready as she prepared to pile into the house.
“Try not to have too much fun,” Oliver pouted.
“Look after the evidence bags for me,” she smirked.
“Piss off.”
And then she stuck out her tongue and disappeared into the property. A series of shouts, screams and snarls erupted from within, accompanied by a chorus of “POLICE, STAY WHERE YOU ARE!” and “POLICE, GET DOWN ON THE GROUND!”
Nancy appeared in an upstairs window. Her fist rammed into the back of a screeching man as she twisted his arm and shoved a pair of handcuffs over his wrists.
“Go girl,” Oliver said under his breath.
Then Harry appeared near a downstairs window, wrestling a grey-haired wolf into a headlock. Blake shot out the front door, his tawny wolf form dragging a male to the ground by his ankles. Oliver jumped on the man, twisting his arms behind his back as another officer came and slapped on a pair of cuffs.
Blake inclined his massive wolf head, before stalking back inside the property. Feeling thoroughly pleased with himself, Oliver dusted off his knees and returned to his position next to the van. He watched as several more prisoners were removed, each of them thrashing and swearing loudly.
“Lovely day for it,” someone piped up, just below his left ear.
Oliver’s head snapped down as he came face to face with a little old lady pulling a tartan shopping cart. She beamed up at him with inquisitive eyes and a shaky smile. And he couldn’t really argue, because the sun and the birds were singing.
