#woman police constable injured

[workingclasshistory]

On this day, 9 March 1914, women battled police in Glasgow during Emmeline Pankhurst’s speaking tour of Scotland. The famous suffragette had been temporarily released from prison to nullify her hunger strike, but now the police sought to rearrest her so she would serve the remainder of her sentence. What they didn’t expect was an organised bodyguard. Pankhurst’s protectors had barbed wire concealed in flower bouquets and clubs concealed in dresses. Some had undertaken martial arts training, and they carried at least one gun. The Glasgow Herald reported that “Unparalleled scenes of disorder took place. The police stormed the platform and for several minutes a fierce struggle took place between them and Mrs Pankhurst’s supporters, several persons being injured. Flower pots and chairs were thrown at the constables, who were obliged to draw their batons. In the course of the mêlée the excitement was intensified by a woman firing several blank rounds from a revolver.” More information, sources and map: https://stories.workingclasshistory.com/article/10923/glasgow-suffragettes-fight-police Pictured: a cartoon featuring a suffragette trained in martial arts https://www.facebook.com/workingclasshistory/photos/a.296224173896073/2226241860894285/?type=3

[darkhorse-javert]

Fluff-tober Day 2 'Family, Friends, Loved Ones'

Slightly stream of conciousness thing from Foyle's point of view reflecting on Sam and a bond with her. @flufftober

A Daughter He'd Never Had

He had to concede that, he'd had no idea, absolutely none how to deal with Sam Stewart when she strode smartly into his office, and given the over crisp salute of the newly in uniform. A new driver was one thing, but a girl, and one with no experience of the order of the police force, was yet another. A girl who proved to have with romantic-fantastic ideas of detection and uninhibited, uninhabitable, curiosity.

And sharp eyes, quick intelligence, better than many constables (that's why they've stayed constables, or in uniform at least).

And then her father came to Hastings, wanting to take her home. He could understand that, wanting her under your eyes, and safe and sound (he wants the same for Andrew, if he will admit it to himself.) But he minds. Minds as much as his men being taken by the war. Finds himself arguing for her to stay with them.

And because she asked, he let her try to winkle things of Graeme. He's stung when she comes back, rumbled and complaining of being pinched; although she won't say where out-loud, he can guess. It was Sam who called him off a response. It's on good logic but he regrets it all the same, resents the behaviour for being as much against one of his own, as against a woman, and a woman young enough to be Graeme's daughter (or mine). He's sickened, but not surprised, after that, when it all comes out - everything Graeme did to Lucy, and her father's vengence. And in a way, the death to come is more for the poor driver with the wrong name, not the Group Captain. For the law is law, even in wartime, especially in Wartime. He tries not to think of the 'What If?' pushes it into a box and locks the door, even as he lays it to Keller; for Andrew, scapegoated for doing the right thing; for Lucy, for all the girls and women the moralists fret about (and perhaps they're right.)

Somehow, in spite of all of that weight to the contrary, they, he, get to keep Sam in Hastings. His heart drops to his boots when she's bombed out (unhurt, Thank Goodness.) And again when it comes out she's not been promptly re-billited, but is lodging in the cells -the Cells! -at the station. Hang propriety for once, he takes her in, and admist her wave of chatter and observations, finds just how much he has missed having another person mostly in the house, for all these years. Sam is a breath of fresh air, even if overeager.

He tries that with Andrew- injured, alone-and maybe it is 'presumptous', but its the mask she'd puts over the hurt when she'd come back to him, trying to pretend it didn't matter. He thought he'd done better than that with the boy (certainly tried to), and he gives Andrew what-for. Later, months later, he finds out that dressing down may have worked a bit too well.. but he can't mind. Don't count your chickens- but would be nice...

In one timeline, Andrew muffs it, out there in Debden. Why can't his son just stick? He almost wishes Andrew would get leave, so he can have a word. But he doesn't, and Sam seems to move on. In that timeline, the American tells him "The way she talks about you sometimes, you could almost be her father." He tucks that inside, it warms him, but he will not interfere with Sam's choices, she has a mind and a life of her own.

It's horrible seeing her in the hospital bed; drained, so ill and still trying to make light of things with him, trying to be herself. And Elsie Jenkins dead with the same symptoms. He humours her, although it twists his chest.

The infection comes from a station near here

Enough! Enough!! I've been made bend to the war requirements here and there, but not against our own, not against MY own. Not Sam.

"Well, there's been an outbreak of anthrax in Hastings and he's responsible for it. If I'm not in his office within the next two minutes, I'll be back with the army, the police, the Home Guard and the press. D'you feel able to convey this to him at your earliest opportunity?" He says it, and he means it.

Later, afterwards, he'll feel a little bad for the poor sentry who got that earful; a man who was only doing his duty scrupulously, as trained to. But right now, I don't give a forsaken-damn.

The sentry has a heart, or at least an acknowledgment of authority. The CO's a smug blighter puffed with his pride, but the young scientists care more for life than the secrecy.

Sam makes it. Somehow, somehow. Weak, but she's alive. She's alive. He lets himself shake only when he's home alone, relief hammering at him, as it had when Andrew was only knocked about in the landing. Not this time, has the world taken something, not this time.

[coochiequeens]

Men in black assaulted a woman on behalf of men in dresses

A trans activist was arrested yesterday at an event critical of gender ideology held in Newcastle, England, after he assaulted a female attendee. 

Speaking with Reduxx, Florence Waller recounted how she was attacked while leaving the public speaking event on January 15. Waller explains that as she was leaving the event with her banner rolled up under her right arm, several men wearing masks and dressed predominantly in black broke off from the group of counter-protesters to approach her.

“About three of them seemed to hang back a bit and then quite suddenly one pushed me and snatched my banner from my hand and ran off,” she told Reduxx shortly after the event had concluded.

She then described how she ran after the man in an attempt to retrieve her banner. Waller had just managed to corner him when a police officer arrived.

Waller then left the scene with the rest of the attendees of the event. Later that day, she pressed charges.

“I was informed that a police liaison officer had been there looking for me so I phoned 101 and reported the incident. I’ve been told the police will be in touch for a statement,” Waller told Reduxx.

Fortunately, Waller was not injured, but she was upset over the incident as she had spent a significant amount of time hand-making the banner, which read Let Women Speak and Protect Women’s Single Sex Spaces.

“I went to the event to highlight the importance of same-sex care for vulnerable elderly women as I am myself a carer, and I have no doubt that this individual has absolutely no concern about anything … I wonder if he had even seen the very simple message on my banner as it was rolled up under my arm.”

Waller said that another woman retrieved her banner and returned it to her and she proudly displayed it after the incident. 

The event was part of a series of “Let Women Speak” events organized by women’s rights campaigner Kellie-Jay Keen, also known by her moniker Posie Parker.

Keen has hosted events in major cities across the United Kingdom and even recently traveled across the United States. The events are open to the public and allow women to come forward to speak about issues that impact them. In particular, many women take to criticizing gender ideology and the consequences it has had for women’s single-sex spaces and care.

The events typically attract a crowd of angry trans activists, primarily young males, who often dress in masks and don all-black clothes. The counter-demonstrators are often affiliated with or organized by Antifa and “Transgender Action Block.”

This is not the first time a trans activist has been arrested at an event critical of gender ideology. 

Back in September of 2022, Reduxx was on the scene of a Let Women Speak event in Brighton where three men were arrested.

One of the trans activists, 19, was detained on suspicionof assault and another, 20, was arrested on suspicion of obstructing a police officer. 

A third man, Craig Thomas, was initially arrested on charges of sexual assault, but was later found to have been in possession of a knife as well. However, since the event there have been debates about whether he was part of the counterprotest, or if he was a random member of the public.

Following the event in Brighton, Keen was threatenedwith arrest if she did not attend a “voluntary” police interview to address an investigation into her committing a “hate crime” for her speech.

“The crime is use of words or behavior to stir up hatred on the grounds of sexual orientation,” the police officer, a Police Constable told Keen during a recorded phone call. Keen posted the video of the phone call to her Youtube channel. She did not attend the interview.

In October of 2022, Keen took her public speaking tour to the United States where trans activists were even more violent and aggressive, leading to several events being cancelled due to security concerns. The final stop of the tour was in New York City, where seven counter-protesters were arrested. Keen was unable to safely speak at the event after police refused to provide her escort through the crowd to the podium. 

Despite the threats she has faced for holding her pro-woman events, Keen is not deterred and already has plans to visit other domestic and international destinations throughout 2023.

By Shay Woulahan Shay is a writer and social media content creator for Reduxx. She is a proud lesbian activist and feminist who lives in Northern Ireland with her partner and their four-legged, fluffy friends.

[apenitentialprayer]

detail of an icon of The Parable of the Good Samaritan, by Jozef Sedmak

One dawn in late July, Sunil found a fellow scavenger lying in the mud where Annawadi's rut-road met the airport thoroughfare. Sunil knew the old man a little; he worked hard and slept outside the Marol fish market, half a mile away. Now the man's leg was mashed and bloody, and he was calling out to passersby for help. Sunil figured he'd been hit by a car. Some drivers weren't overly concerned about avoiding trash-pickers who scoured the roadsides.

Sunil was too scared to go to the police station and ask for an ambulance, especially after what was rumored to have happened to Abdul. Instead he ran toward the battleground of the Cargo Road dumpsters, hoping an adult would brave the police station. Thousands of people passed this way every morning.

Two hours later, when Rahul left Annawadi for school, the injured man was crying for water. "This one is even drunker than your father," one of Rahul's friends teased him. "Drunker than your father," Rahul retorted unimaginatively as they turned onto Airport Road. Rahul wasn't afraid of the police; he'd run to them for help when his neighbor dumped boiling lentils on Danush, his sickly baby. The man on the road was just a scavenger, though, and Rahul had to catch a bus to class.

When Zehrunisia Husain passed an hour later, the scavenger was screaming in pain. She thought his leg looked like hell, but she was bringing food and medicine to her husband, who also looked like hell far across the city in the Arthur Road Jail.

Mr. Kramble passed a little later, milky-eyed and aching, on his tour of businesses and charities, still seeking contributions for his heart valve. He had once been a pavement dweller like the injured man. Now Mr. Kramble saw nothing but his own bottomless grief, because he knew miracles were possible in new India and that he couldn't have one.

When Rahul and his brother returned from school in the early afternoon, the injured scavenger lay still, moaning faintly. At 2:30 P.M., a Shiv Sena man made a call to a friend in the Sahar Police Station about a corpse that was disturbing small children. At 4:00 P.M., constables enlisted enlisted other scavengers to load the body into a police van, so that the constables wouldn't catch the diseases that trash-pickers were known to carry.

Unidentified body, the Sahar Police decided without looking for the scavenger's family. Died of tuberculosis, the Cooper Hospital morgue pathologist concluded without an autopsy.

Katherine Boo (Behind the Beautiful Forevers: Life, Death, and Hope in a Mumbai Undercity, pages 152-153)

Which of these … in your opinion, was the neighbor to the robbers' victim?

the Gospel According to Luke (10:36)

The effect of corruption I find most unacknowledged is a contraction not of economic possibility but of our moral universe. In my reporting I am continually struck by the ethical imaginations of young people, even those in circumstances so desperate that selfishness would be an asset. Children have little power to act on those imaginations, and by the time they grow up, they may have become the adults who keep walking as a bleeding waste-picker slowly dies on the roadside, who turn away when a burned woman writhes, whose first reaction when a vibrant teenager drinks rat poison is a shrug. How does that happen? How —to use Abdul's formulation— do children intent on being ice become water? A cliché about India holds that the loss of life matters less than in other countries because of the Hindu faith in reincarnation, and because of the vast scale of the population. In my reporting, I found that young people felt the loss of life acutely. What appeared to be indifference to other people's suffering had little to do with reincarnation, and less to do with being born brutish. I believe it had a good deal to do with conditions that had sabotaged their innate capacity for moral action.

In places where government priorities and market imperatives create a world so capricious that to help a neighbor is to risk your ability to feed your family, and sometimes even your own liberty, the idea of the mutually supportive poor community is demolished. The poor blame one another for the choices of governments and markets, and we who are not poor are ready to blame the poor just as harshly.

It is easy, from a safe distance, to overlook the fact that in undercities governed by corruption, where exhausted people vie on scant terrain for very little, it is blisteringly hard to be good. The astonishment is that some people are good, and that many people try to be[.]

Katherine Boo (Behind the Beautiful Forevers: Life, Death, and Hope in a Mumbai Undercity, pages 253-254)

[T]o be truly free is to be free from the blinders that prevent us from doing the morally good action. To put it another way: to fail in doing the morally good action is to presuppose some kind of bondage.

Matthew Distefano (The Wisdom of Hobbits: Unearthing Our Humanity at 3 Bagshot Row, page 120)

[beardedmrbean]

LONDON (AP) — A knife-wielding assailant stabbed two college students to death in the streets of the English city of Nottingham and then fatally stabbed a middle-aged man, stole his van and ran down three pedestrians in a shocking rampage early Tuesday morning, police said.

Police arrested a 31-year-old man on suspicion of murder. The Nottinghamshire Police force said investigators believe the perpetrator acted alone and detectives were working with counterterrorism officers to try to establish a motive.

“This is a horrific and tragic incident which has claimed the lives of three people,” Chief Constable Kate Meynell said.

A man who was among the people struck in the hit-and-run was hospitalized in critical condition. The dead included two 19-year-old students from the University of Nottingham.

“We are shocked and devastated by the news,” the school said in an announcement. A graduation ball scheduled for Tuesday evening was canceled.

The knife attack on the students occurred around dawn in an area near student housing a short walk from the university’s Jubilee Campus. A caller reported that two stabbing victims were lying in the street.

Police think the attacker then killed a man in his 50s and took his van, Meynell said. His body was found on a different street more than a mile from the first crime scene.

About 90 minutes after the initial attack, witnesses were horrified as they watched the van plow into pedestrians and flee.

Lynn Haggitt was on her way to work when a white van pulled up beside her at 5:30 a.m. She saw the driver look in his mirror and spot a police car approaching slowly from behind without its emergency lights on. The driver then accelerated and struck a man and woman at a street corner, she said.

“He went straight into them. He didn’t even bother to turn,” Haggitt told reporters. “The woman went on the curb, the man went up in the air, there was such a bang, I wish I never saw it. It’s really shaken me up.”

The driver then sped through the city center with police on his tail, she added.

Haggitt said the wounded man appeared to have a head injury but was helped to his feet. The woman was sitting on the curb and appeared to be OK. A third pedestrian was struck on the same street, police said.

Two of the hit-and-run victims had minor injuries, Meynell said.

“We believe these three incidents are all linked, and we have a man in custody,” the police chief said. “We are keeping an open mind as we investigate the circumstances surrounding these incidents and are working alongside Counter Terrorism Policing to establish the facts, as we would normally do in these types of circumstances.”

After stopping the van, officers subdued the suspect with a Taser before detaining him.

University of Nottingham student Kane Brady said he awoke to loud shouts of “armed police” and heard what sounded like a gunshot outside.

He said he saw officers holding stun guns and a man being dragged out of the van and pinned on the ground.

“I saw him getting arrested, him trying to resist,” Brady told British broadcaster GB News. “When they opened the van, I saw a large knife being pulled out and then straight away, that’s when police closed off both roads.”

Photos showed the hood of the van dented and cracks in the windshield.

British Prime Minister Rishi Sunak called it a shocking incident and asked that police be given time to investigate the crime.

“My thoughts are with those injured, and the family and loved ones of those who have lost their lives,” Sunak said.

Nottingham is a city of about 350,000 people some 110 miles (175 kilometers) north of London.

Images on social media showed police, some with rifles, standing near cordons at several locations in the city center.

The city’s tram network said it suspended all services.

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"CITY AND DISTRICT," Montreal Gazette. June 13, 1913. Page 3. --- Man Lured Into Lane by Woman Knocked Unconscious and Robbed ---- CALLED JUDGE "COLONEL" ---- Colored and White Pickpockets Caught After Taking Money From Richmond Visitor Found Guilty ----- An old game was tried out successfully last night on Craig streets, when at 11.30 Cecil Lisotte, who says he arrived in Montreal on Wednesday from Ottawa, was lured into a lane in the rear of 34 Cote street by a woman whom he describes as being dressed in white. Lisotte admits that he was somewhat under the influence of liquor, but not so bad that he did not remember all the circumstances. He was no sooner in the lane, which is very dark, when, he states, that a man struck him between the eyes with some heavy instrument, after which he remembers nothing. When he came to his senses his pockets had been turned inside out and $18 stolen therefrom. The matter was brought to the notice of the police by a boy. who at about midnight ran into the Cherneville street police station and said that a man had been killed in the lane in question. Constables Cote and Creveau were sent to the scene and when they arrived, the beaten man was attempting to get to his feet. The blood was streaming from a gash in his forehead and he was very weak. The inside pockets of his vest were found to have been literally torn out. A patrol waggon was called and the man taken to the station, where after telling his story he was sent in the waggon to the General Hospital. After having several stitches taken in his injured head, he was again brought to the station for protection. He was able to give a very good description of the girl and the police are making every effort to round the couple up.

CALLED JUDGE "COLONEL" "Good-bye, Colonel. God bless and thank you. I'll go right away, don't worry about that." With tears streaming down his face as he rushed out of the prisoner's dock in the Arraignment Court yesterday morning, Wesley Welch, colored, alias "Old Folks," who was making himself at home at King Edward Park on Wednesday when he was caught by Inspector McLaughlin, bestowed the title of Colonel on Judge Leet. Welch commenced to cry so loudly when he was arraigned that Judge Leet was glad to get rid of him, when through his sobs and tears the colored man said he was not looking for sympathy, but telling the truth and would get right out of town if he was only given a chance. "Will you go right out of the city if I let you go?" said Judge Leet to "Old Folks." "I'll light right out if you only let me go and give me a couple of minutes to get a few old clothes I have got over here" replied Welch. "I have been living, with the horses since I was nine years old," sobbed the prisoner, "and I did not come here to rob any one. But every place I go the police grab me and lock me up." He disappeared quickly when Judge Leet said he could go. He was seen off by local detectives by the 10.30 train for Buffalo last night.

PICKPOCKETS GUILTY. Fisher First, colored, and Frank Sullivan, white, who were arrested a couple of weeks ago by Detectives Lapage and Gorman on a charge of picking $390 from the pocket of J. A. Adams, of Richmond, Que., on a St Lawrence street car, were found guilty yesterday in the Court of Special Sessions by Judge Bazin. First and Sullivan were unable to secure bail following their arrest, as they were caught with the goods, although they tried hard to regain their liberty. They were remanded until next Tuesday for sentence. The pair were arrested immediately after they had taken Adams roll and the money was found on Sullivan when he was searched at the City Hall avenue station. When the accused were found guilty yesterday, High Constable St. Mars handed over to Adams his $200.

[kayla1993-world]

Police identify woman killed in random double stabbing on Toronto subway train

Toronto police have identified a woman who died after Thursday's double stabbing on a subway train. A Toronto man is now facing two charges in connection with the attack, according to police. Investigators say Toronto woman Vanessa Kurpiewska, 31, died after she was stabbed shortly after 2 p.m. A 37-year-old woman who was also injured in the attack was treated for non-life-threatening injuries and later released from the hospital, police said in a news release Friday. Police were called to High Park station for reports of a person allegedly assaulting and stabbing people. A man was arrested at the scene. Police say Neng Jia Jin, 52, has been charged with first-degree murder and attempted murder. The accused and the victims did not know each other, police say. Jin made a brief court appearance at the Old City Hall courthouse on Friday, where he was read a list of names of people he cannot contact. The court also placed a publication ban on the names on that list. Jin will remain in custody until his next court appearance on Dec. 14. Thursday's attack was the latest in a string of violent incidents on Toronto Transit Commission (TTC) property this year. In April, a woman was injured when she was pushed onto the subway tracks at Bloor-Yonge station. She survived by pressing herself against the subway platform to avoid being hit by an oncoming train. The woman is now suing the TTC for $1 million. Just days before that incident, a man was rushed to the hospital after he was stabbed on the platform at St. George station. The police have made arrests in both cases. Then, in June, a 27-year-old woman was attacked on a TTC bus when a man poured a liquid substance on her and ignited it. She was rushed to Sunnybrook Hospital, where she later died. A 33-year-old man was later arrested and charged with first-degree murder. Toronto Mayor John Tory described Thursday's attack as shocking and said people can expect a greater police presence on the TTC. "We can never accept acts of violence of this kind happening anywhere in our city," Tory said on Twitter. "My thoughts are with the family and friends of the woman who has lost her life. "We will simply have to sit down again with the TTC and police officials to see what more we can do to ensure the safety of TTC passengers beyond the many measures the TTC has put in place," Tory added. Meanwhile, TTC CEO Rick Leary said the transit agency would add more special constables and uniformed staff to the subway system, starting on Thursday, in response to the stabbing. "The TTC moves hundreds of millions of customers every year without incident, but is constantly looking at ways to improve safety," he said. The Amalgamated Transit Union (ATU) Local 113, which represents nearly 12,000 TTC employees, called Thursday's attack "senseless." "ATU Local 113, along with the citizens of Toronto, are outraged at these repeated acts of violence on public transit and demand that the City of Toronto and the TTC take transit safety seriously and now act with urgency," the lion said in a statement on Twitter. "Waiting is not an option."

[rudrjobdesk]

महिला सिपाही ने झपटमारों से लिया लोहा तो उचक्‍कों ने चलती ट्रेन से फेंका बाहर

महिला सिपाही ने झपटमारों से लिया लोहा तो उचक्‍कों ने चलती ट्रेन से फेंका बाहर

कटिहार. बिहार के कटिहार जिले से सनसनीखेज खबर सामने आई है. अपराधियों ने एक महिला पुलिसकर्मी को चलती ट्रेन से धक्‍का दे दिया. इस घटना में महिला कांस्‍टेबल बुरी तरह से घायल हो गईं. बेहतर इलात के लिए उन्‍हें कटिहार मेडिकल कॉलेज में भर्ती कराया गया है. झपटमारों का गिरोह चलती ट्रेन में आपराधिक घटनाओं को अंजाम दे रहे थे. महिला पुलिसकर्मी ने उसका विरोध किया. अपराधियों के हौसले इतने बुलंद थे कि पुलिस से…

[shantinewshindi]

जमशेदपुर में कोरोना संक्रमित पेशेंट की अंत्येष्टि करने के विरोध में लोगों ने किया पथराव, लाठीचार्ज कोरोना संक्रमित का शव जलाने को लेकर रविवार सुबह जमकर बवाल हुआ। बर्निंग घाट के निकट ह्यूमपाइप बस्ती के लोगों ने पुलिस पर पथराव किया। इसके जवाब में पुलिस ने भी लाठीचार्ज किया।पथराव में त्वरित राहत... Source link

[dailyunsolvedmysteries]

Man sexually assaulted injured teenager after she fell down stairs at Tube station

A man pretended to help a teenager after she fell down the stairs at a Tube station but instead dragged her to a basement where he sexually assaulted her.

Sharif Abbas, 31, took advantage of the 19-year-old after she fell down some stairs at Bond Street station in central London at around 6am on June 16, 2019. The young woman broke her wrist in the fall and suffered a severe head injury which left part of her skull exposed.

Abbas approached her when she sat down to recover, pretending to be a Transport for London employee. He put on a TfL high-vis jacket, then after telling her to wait for him, scouted out an empty basement nearby.

Instead of calling emergency services, Abbas lead the woman, who was bleeding heavily, to the basement where he told her he needed to examine her injuries, at which point he assaulted her. When Abbas entered the building’s basement he unwittingly triggered a silent alarm, when police arrived at the scene officers came across Abbas assaulting the woman. Officers found him standing behind the victim with his hands under her clothing and the fly of his jeans undone. He had taken her under a covered walkway where they were not visible to passers-by at street level, police said.

The woman was later taken to a west London hospital where she received treatment for her head injury and underwent surgery on her wrist. She has since made a full recovery, according to the Met Police.

When Abbas was interviewed by detectives, he said it did not occur to him to press an emergency button as he was trying to help the woman. He claimed he tried to call an ambulance but could not get a signal, Abbas also claimed the victim asked him not to call an ambulance.

However, CCTV showed Abbas had his phone to his ear throughout the 45 minutes he kidnapped the woman and no 999 call was made nor did he administer any first aid, police said. The high-vis vest he wore was one he used when working on bus passenger surveys two years earlier, but at the time of the attack, he was unemployed. Abbas told detectives he carried it with him for use if he went running or in case he came across ‘an accident or something’.

At Southwark Crown Court yesterday, Abbas, from Haringey, north London, was jailed and four years after being found guilty of kidnap and sexual assault at an earlier hearing. Sentencing Abbas, Judge Gregory Perrins said: ‘I have no doubt that had they [the police officer] not attended in that moment, you [Abbas] would have gone on to commit a more serious sexual assault.’

Detective Constable Nigel Pacquette, the investigating officer from the Met Police’s Central West Command Unit, described Abbas’ actions as ‘sinister’ and ‘predatory’. ‘To take advantage of a seriously injured woman, particularly at a time when she required urgent medical attention, is deplorable,’ he said.

‘I am aware that the details of this case, and the predatory nature of offenders such as Abbas, will instil fear in many women. We are working hard to remove offenders of this type from our streets.’

DC Pacquette also paid tribute to the victim’s bravery.

He added: ‘The young lady targeted by Abbas has been incredibly brave, determined and patient throughout this investigation and the court proceedings.

‘She no longer lives in the UK, and due to Abbas’s not guilty plea, was compelled to return to Britain and quarantine in order to take part in the trial process.

‘I applaud her actions to help ensure that other women are spared the perverse attentions of this man.’

[ukrfeminism]

5 minute read

TW: child death

A nine-year-old girl has died after being shot in Liverpool.

A man was reported to have fired a gun in a house on Kingsheath Avenue in Dovecot at 22:00 BST on Monday.

The girl was shot in the chest and died in hospital, while a man also suffered gunshot wounds to his body and a woman was shot in the hand.

Merseyside Police has put a cordon in place as officers hunt the gunman. Assistant Chief Constable Jenny Sims said the shooting was "truly shocking".

"No parent should ever have to suffer the loss of a child in these dreadful circumstances," she said.

"This crime is abhorrent and our communities must come forward and tell us who is responsible.

"This cowardly individual does not deserve to be walking the streets and I would urge those who know anything to speak to us and tell us what they know."

A force spokesman said the girl's next of kin have been informed and were "being supported by specially trained family liaison officers".

He said the injured man and woman were taken to hospital after the shootings and house-to-house and forensic inquiries were being carried out. 

West Derby's Labour MP Ian Byrne, whose constituency includes the street, said residents were "all struggling to process it as a community".

He said he would be asking his constituents to "help the police and give them as much information as possible".

Liverpool Mayor Joanne Anderson said it was an "appalling act of evil" and urged anyone with information to "come forward", adding: "Guns have no place in our communities."

A woman who lives nearby, who asked to remain anonymous, said the shooting made her worry for her own children.

"It's devastating. It can't carry on like this," she said.

At the scene

As you walk around the extensive police cordon, shock is etched on people's faces.

Many living locally only found out this morning what had happened.

In the houses nearest, people know the girl who died, but they don't want to speak to the media. Those that do talk of their fear for themselves.

One couple said they heard what they thought were four gunshots last night and were now scared, not just for their young child, but for themselves too.

Another woman, who has lived in the area for decades, said it was maybe time to leave. 

The killing of a nine-year-old girl has had a deep effect on those who live here.

The girl's death came after a spate of killings involving guns and knives on Merseyside.

On the same night, a woman was found with a fatal stab wound in her chest in a pub car park in Kirkby, while on Sunday, 28-year-old council worker Ashley Dale died after being shot in the Old Swan area of Liverpool.

Police are also still searching for two people who fled on electric bikes after Sam Rimmer, who was in his early 20s,was shot in Toxteth on 16 August.

Monday was also the 15th anniversary of the murder of 11-year-old Rhys Jones, who was mistakenly shot by a gang member in Croxteth on his way home from football practice in 2007.

'Heartbreaking tragedy' 

Labour's Paula Barker, the MP for Liverpool Wavertree, said the "mindless violence simply has to stop".

She said the city would "come together in adversity" as it always did and Liverpudlians would be "absolutely horrified" by what had happened.

Assistant mayor Harry Doyle said he was the same age as Rhys Jones and remembered his being equally "as worried and concerned and devastated" as the people he had spoken to earlier.

"It is unthinkable and it's unbelievable that this has happened again 15 years on," he said.

"We thought we'd rid ourselves of this violence and this week we've seen it return."

Home Secretary Priti Patel has offered her "heartfelt condolences" to the girl's family, adding it was "important that anyone with information comes forward"

"The force has my full support and will receive any additional resources they need," she added.

Labour leader Sir Keir Starmer said in a tweet that his thoughts were "with the little girl's family" as it was "devastating news, for them and their community", while Liberal Democrats leader Ed Davey tweeted that it was "a heartbreaking tragedy for Liverpool and the whole country". 

He added that he was sending his "thoughts and prayers to her family and friends, the other victims of this senseless shooting, and the whole community".

How is Merseyside affected by gun crime?

In 2021-22, Merseyside Police recorded 211 firearm offences, placing it in the top 10 worst affected areas in England and Wales

That represented a 51% increase on the previous year when there were 140 firearm offences recorded, but it remained lower than pre-pandemic levels, when there were 227 offences recorded

London (1,066 offences) and the West Midlands (585) recorded the highest number of firearm offences in the last year

Nationally, police recorded 5,752 firearm offences in the year ending March 2022, which was a decrease on the 6,618 offences recorded pre-pandemic

Across England and Wales, a total of 35 deaths were reported involving a firearm in the year ending March 2021, with 27 being reported in the year before

[aion-rsa]

Endeavour: Why Isn’t Fred Thursday in Morse’s Later Life?

https://ift.tt/3EkpSPm

Warning: contains plot details for Series 8 Episode 1 ‘Striker’

“A man only gets one father,” Fred Thursday told Morse in Endeavour series one, when the young officer was demurring about returning home to attend his dad’s deathbed. Of Thursday’s many sayings, this one proves the least true in Endeavour’s case. Morse had one father, yes – a strained relationship with an estranged man whose dying words to his constable son were that he’d never liked the police – but in Fred Thursday, he also had another.

Has another, that should say, as Thursday is still very much part of Morse’s life. It’s a hard-to-ignore fact though, that a separation between the two is inevitable and fast-approaching. Roger Allam’s DCI was invented solely for the Inspector Morse prequel and is therefore absent from Morse’s later years. Endeavour creator Russell Lewis built Thursday and Morse’s relationship in the knowledge that eventually, he would have to tear it apart. Whether in this series or the next, something is going to happen to make Morse never again mention the name Fred Thursday. The question is: what?

The seeds of a conflict between the erstwhile mentor and his brilliant young student had already sprouted in series seven, which saw Morse and Thursday at loggerheads investigating the case of the Towpath Killer. Morse criticised and undermined Thursday’s police work, and Thursday angrily reminded the erudite youngster that not every case is a crossword puzzle that can be solved using anagrams, opera, or the periodic table. Their animosity led to an embarrassing stand-up fight over the corpse of a victim, and a falling out only becalmed after a letter of apology and a Venetian canal-side shoot-out. 

Though the series eight opener ‘Striker’ ends on a note of warmth, with Morse remembering never getting chosen for sports teams at school and Thursday remarking “I chose you,” the distance has already set in between them. The days of cosy lunchtime pints, when a word of paternal encouragement from Thursday was enough to lift Morse’s spirits, are gone. (These days, Morse’s spirits are more likely to be found in a hip flask, as the formerly teetotal new recruit has decidedly slid into the habits of the old gumshoe he’s to become.)

At one time, Morse and Thursday were a two-man team against the world. Driving the roads of Oxford, swapping theories and saving the world. Morse made solves Thursday never could have, and Thursday advocated for his unlikely bagman’s brilliance to Bright and others, having spotted the potential of Endeavour’s unusual mind right from the start. Much has happened since Thursday tenderly covered an injured Morse with an overcoat on the family sofa and let him sleep surrounded by the familial warmth of the Thursday home.  

No small amount of what’s happened is between Endeavour and Fred’s daughter Joan, or “Miss Thursday” as Morse affectionately calls her. They grew close after Endeavour’s daily trips to the Thursdays’ semi-detached to drive Fred to work, and shared a terrifying ordeal in series three finale ‘Coda’, when both were held at gunpoint during the raid on Joan’s bank. Theirs is less a will-they-won’t-they relationship than an if-they-will-they-won’t-for-long romance. Once again, a Damoclean sword hangs over the pair. Fans know that Inspector Morse remains a lifelong bachelor, so any love they share is doomed not to end in anything lasting. 

Read more

TV

Endeavour Series 8 Episode 1 Review: the Inspector Morse Transition Begins

By Gem Wheeler

TV

Endeavour: Will There Be a Series 9?

By Louisa Mellor

Series eight sees Joan, now a social worker caring for neglected children, accept a dinner dance invitation from Morse’s former flatmate and future superintendent Jim Strange. That supports a theory held by some fans that Joan is destined to become Mrs Strange, a character about whom we know nothing from the Inspector Morse TV series or original Colin Dexter novels. Seeing the ambitious woman of conviction he loves settle for a man as pedestrian as Jim Strange may well be enough to break Morse’s heart and put him off relationships for good. Judging by the cynical, heavy-drinker Endeavour becomes, in that case Miss Thursday would surely have made the right choice, though that’s a chicken-and-egg situation if ever there were one. 

One thing sure to drive an unmovable wedge between Morse and Fred Thursday would be if Morse were to mistreat Joan. Fred and Win love their daughter fiercely, and if Morse hurt her badly, it’s easy to imagine that no amount of affection or history between Morse and Fred would bridge that divide. Thus far, Morse has always been – to use Joan’s words – the perfect gentleman towards her. He covered for her when she snuck out to a club with DS Jakes, and warned Jakes to treat her well. When she left home, traumatised by the bank raid, and ended up living unhappily with a married man, it was Morse she wordlessly phoned for help. When that married man kicked her out, pregnant, it was Morse’s doorstep she showed up on. And when Morse saw the black eye her boyfriend had given her, it was him who could barely contain his rage, and then offered to marry her. 

Heartbreak is one possibility, grief is be another. The terminus Endeavour is heading towards may not be Morse losing Joan to another man, but losing Joan altogether. Her social work role has already led to crossover with police investigations. Perhaps she becomes fatally entangled with a dangerous case, which is what causes Endeavour and Fred’s rift. After the murders of Constable Carter (whom Fred took under his wing in much the same way as he did Endeavour) and DC Fancy, we’ve seen how Thursday holds onto guilt. How might he react if Morse made a mistake on a case that lost him his daughter? The shame and pain would surely be enough for Morse to want to close a door on the Thursday family in his mind, while the grief could send Fred and Win away from Oxford and the memories it holds.

If Endeavour’s creator allows Joan to live, then there’s another choice of potential victim: Fred. After all, when the series seven voiceover told us “This is a love story,” we all knew it really meant the father-son love between Endeavour and Fred, not Morse’s operatic entanglement with Italian minx Violetta Talenti. To lose Fred, and to perhaps be responsible for Fred’s death, would certainly be painful enough for Morse to wipe the man from his memory. Though seemingly indestructible (Thursday has both taken a bullet and coughed one up, not to mention his rooftop near-miss, gangland scrapes, war years, and that tiger), there are only so many times Endeavour and Fred can save one another’s lives. Perhaps what we’re working towards is the moment when Endeavour arrives on the scene too late. (Actor Roger Allam, for one, is hoping that Thursday goes out in a spectacular death scene.) After all, some coppers never do get to hang their Winchester over the fire place. 

Whatever causes the breach, when he loses Fred Thursday, Endeavour won’t just be losing a guvnor. When Fred asked Morse’s neighbour Monica to check in on him and call night or day if he needed him, he may have said he was just a colleague, but that’s not so. He’s family. To the end. 

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

Endeavour series eight is airing on Sundays at 8pm on ITV. 

The post Endeavour: Why Isn’t Fred Thursday in Morse’s Later Life? appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3Ccw76c

[thisbluespirit]

The Hidden Truth: 1.11 “The Final Analysis” (24th September 1964).  Written by Peter Lambda; dir. Peter Sasdy.  Featuring regulars Alexander Knox, Elizabeth Weaver, Zia Mohyeddin, George Moon & Ruth Meyers. Guest starring Lyn Ashley, Patricia Healey, Philip Locke, David Lodge & Simon Lack.

Dr da Silva (Zia Mohyeddin) watches an ambulance arrive at St Judes, carrying a pregnant woman, Jenny (Lyn Ashley) who’s been badly injured in a car crash.  The birth of her baby brings three people into conflict - and Professor Lazard (Alexander Knox) and Dr Coliton (Elizabeth Weaver) “must tread carefully if they are to avoid allowing their personal feelings to colour their judgment.”

Other guests include Patricia Healey and David Lodge as Nan & Henry Barker, Philip Locke as Michael Watt, Helen Lennox as Sally, Douglas Muir as Mr. Proudfoot, Simon Lack and Margaret John as Dr Roberts & a ward sister (more St Jude’s staff?), and Emrys Leyshon as a police constable.

“The Final Analysis” was one of only two episodes not to include James Maxwell’s Dr Fox.  The IMBd summary suggests that it focused primarily on Lazard (or “Professor Hazard” as they put it) and Dr Coliton, but the Mirror chose to preview the episode with a feature on Zia Mohyeddin, who played da Silva - “An actor everyone wants to know” and added the detail about his part in the opening sequence, so he may also have been prominent in the episode.

Tonight Zia appears as Dr. Hamavid da Silva, a post-graduate from Ceylon, in the scientific series “The Hidden Truth” (ITV 8.0).

 He has earned himself quite a reputation, both in the theatre and on TV.  He first came to prominence in the West End in the play “Passage to India,” and followed this up with a top-class performance as Lawrence’s guide in the film “Lawrence of Arabia.”

 Now he is adding to his reputation in “The Hidden Truth.”

 Zia has packed a lot of experience into a very busy acting career. He has done a bit of everything – from commentating to acting and directing in radio in Karachi; acting and directing for Australian TV.  He organised the first professional theatre in Pakistan and played for the Royal Shakespeare Company in Stratford. Then he went to Hollywood for “Passage to India”; and toured America with a one-man show of story-telling, poetry-reading and recitals.”  

The article also noted that Lyn Ashley, playing the pregnant woman at the centre of the conflict, was the daughter of actress Madge Ryan.

(IMBd gives 1st October 1964 as the date of broadcast, but the TV pages have it scheduled as 24th September (following ep10 on Sept 17th), with no indication of any reschedule & episode 12 appears in the schedules as per normal for Oct 1st over most regions.)

As with the next two episodes, Kaleidoscope lists "The Final Analysis” as having surviving clips or sequences - here’s hoping Talking Pictures will let us have a peek at those!  And maybe we can work out which three people are coming into conflict over the baby...

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"CONSTABLE LIES AT DEATH'S DOOR," Free Press & Prairie Farmer. January 29, 1913. Page 1 & 4. ---- CHARLES ROOKE OF PROVINCIAL POLICE SHOT BY GALICIAN RESISTING ARREST ---- Shooting Took Place in Settlement 25 Miles From Dauphin - Baran Fired Through Door ---- Dauphin, Man., Jan. 26. Constable Charles Rooke, of the provincial police, lies at the point of death at a farmhouse in the municipality of Gilbert Plains, in the district of Riding Mountain, about 25 miles from here suffering from a bullet wound from the rifle of a Galician named John Baran, whom Rooke was sent from here to arrest for wife desertion.

Rooke left Dauphin this morning, taking a livery team and a driver to arrest John Baran, who has been giving considerable trbl of late. He had deserted his wife, who has been a public charge for years, and is said to have been living with another woman at his arm in the Riding Mountain. A warrant was issued recently for the man's arrest, and an effort was made a few days ago to serve it, but after a terrific fight, constable who was sent out had to return without his man.

Constable Rooke, who is well known as a fearless and efficient officer, was detailed to the case, and started out this morning, accompanied by J. Thompson, driver for a livery firm. The team was left at a neighbor's, a mile from Baran's, while the two men proceeded on foot, expecting thus to be able to make the approach and effect the arrest, without warning the man or giving him a chance to escape to the woods or otherwise elude capture. Rooke and his companion reached the house at about noon today. After carefully approaching the house, the constable rapped on the door, but was told by the woman, who came to the window, that Baran was not at home. Rooke then proceeded to make a forcible entrance, when three shots were fired in rapid succession from a rifle, through the door.

The first shot struck the officer in the left breast over the heart. His companion, Thompson, attempted to assist him to walk back to where the team was left, but after proceeding a short distance, he was compelled to leave the injured man and hasten on for his team. Returning, with the assistance of a neighbor, he conveyed Rooke to the neighbor's house, but had to leave him there as he could not stand the jolting of the cutter. Thompson then proceeded down the moun- tain about nine miles to the home of H. McCorvie, and telephoned from there to Dauphin for medical aid.

Dr. Harrington went immediately to the scene, while a posse, under Chief Bridle set out to capture Baran.

At midnight tonight word was received that Constable Rooke was still living, although in a serious condition. If possible, he will be brought to Dauphin hospital before morning.

Baran is a big man, 45 years of age and is well known as a desperate character. Constable Rooke, 40 years of age, is married and has three children. He is a native of England and was educated at Wellington college. has been in this country about years. The news of the affair was kept from his wife until a definite statement as to his condition had been received, as it was desired not to cause her unnecessary anxiety, Mrs. Rooke being in a bad state of health as the result of a carriage accident in which she was injured a few months ago.

Constable Rooke was placed in the Dauphin General hospital shortly after midnight. Dr. Harrington, who went out and attended to his injury found him in a very critical condition, the bullet having passed through his chest and some out through his left shoulder.

Baran does not seem to realize the position he has placed himself in and has made no attempt to get away. Officers have been sworn in and will leave early in the morning to bring him in to stand his trial.

Rooke Resting Easily. Constable Rooke's condition tonight is favorable, and if complications do not set in he has an excellent chance of recovery. The woman in likely to recover. The bullet entered just above her right breast and did not come out.

Baby Killed, Mother Injured. Dauphin, Man, Jan. 27. - Seeking the Galician, John Baran, in the Galician settlement this morning, the posse headed by Chief Bridley, approaching Baran's house, fired upon. Returning the fire, the police rushed the house only to find wounded woman and a dead baby, and no sign of their quarгу.

The posse had set out early In search of Baran, who, on Sunday afternoon shot and fatally wounded Constable Charles Rooke, a provincial police constable sent to arrest him. The journey to the Galician settlement, which is 20 miles out, was made in fast time, in the hope of catching Baran unprepared, and on arrival at the settlement hurried toward the house pointed out as Baran's.

There being no sign of any one around the house the porze was dis armed, until two shots cracked out, one after the other, Immediately guns were drawn and the fire returned as the posse rushed the dwelling. The door was huried open and the seven mon crowded in, prepared for a fight with the desperate Galeian. instead of Boran, however, they found a wo- man, bleeding badly from a bullet wound above her breast, and near by baby, a little over a year old, shot to death by the fusillade they had poured in.

The woman was hurried into the hospital at Dauphin, but the babe was past aid. A close search was mde for Baran, but no trace of him could be found. Whether he had escaped by a rear entrance after firing the two shots, or whether the stricken woman had fired the opening shots, has not been ascertained.

No figure or face could be seen at any of the windows when the shots were fired, and the woman is too badly hurt to tell a coherent story even if she would, Who the woman is, whether Baran's wife ir not, is not yet known.

Three Posses Are Out. Three posses were organized lastnight by Chief Bridley, and included H. A. Hillevan, E. Torland, P. Crowder, J. W. Evans, J. Fraser and F. May. Commissioning two sleighs the men set out at o'clock this morning. All were armed with rifles and determined to take Baran dead or alive. It was believed that he was still at the settlement, which is 25 miles away, in the Riding Mountains, and was likely to put up a stiff fight. It was this knowledge that led to the volley fired on the house prior to rushing it. No shots came from the house immediately after the return of the posse, so that it is possible that Baran may have tired twice and then, seeing the determined rush, decamped immediately by a rear entrance that by the time the police had got Into the house he had made good his escape into the bush. Two other posses are now out seeking Baran.

Rooke in Low Condition. Constable Rooke still lies in Dauphin hospital, very weak from loss of blood. The bullet had entered below the heart and passed through his left lung. He bled freely and lost much blood on the long ride back to town. He is in a critical condition and thero is little chance his recovery.

Woman Refused Entrance. It is believed that the woman shot is the same woman who, on Rooke quiring at the house for Baran, told the constable that the man they sought 1 was not at home, Rooke was seeking his man on a charge of wife desertion, the Galician having abandoned his wife to become a public charge, and living with another woman in the settlement.

The woman at the house refused to open the door when the constable called, telling him through a window that Baran was out. Disbelieving her, Rooke attempted a forcible entry, when three rifle shots were fired through the door. The first shot took Rooke in the breast over the heart and the livery driver, who had taken him to the settlement, dragged him out of range, and took him back to town.

This was the second attempt made to apprehend Baran, an officer having gone after him a few days ago, but, after a terrific fight, he had to return without his man, and Rooke was then sent out to attempt the capture. Baran is a big, husky man, 45 years of age, with an unsavory reputation, and known throughout the mountains as a desperate, lawless character.

Rooke Has Good Record Charlie Rooke, who is an old country boy, having been educated at Wellington College, Bucks, was formerly a member of the North West Mounted Police, Eight years ago there was a great deal of trouble on the southern frontier, through the constant raids of horse thieves from across the line. A mounted patrol was organized with Rooke at its head, and largely through his energy the thieves, who known as the McGraw gang. were were traced, and all the horses they had stolen, except two, over a long number of years, were recovered. Rooke was then taken into the regular provincial police force and stationed at Dauphin about a couple of years ago.

Rooke is married and the father of three children. The mother and the children live with him in Dauphin, He frequently came to Winnipeg and is well known here.

OFFICERS CAPTURE GALICIAN OUTLAW Dauphin, Man., Jan. 27. - John Baran is safely behind the steel bars of one of the cages in the Dauphin lockup tonight. He was brought to town shortly after 8 o'clock by Detectives Mackenzie and Parr of the Winnipeg provincial force. They left early this morning for the other side of the mountain, taking the Elphinstone trail. This they followed for a dash of over 35 miles. Shortly after dinner they overtook Baran, who was heading for the south as fast as his legs could carry him. When apprehended he made no effort to resist arrest and quietly took his position in the sleigh with the officers, He was taken about five miles from the farm where the shooting occurred. The return trip was made to Dauphin without anything worthy of not happening. Baran claims that he was not in the house when the shooting occurred and did not know about it until the evening when he returned. He claims the woman did the shooting, and she is stated to have said she fired the shots at Constable Rooke. The stories of Baran and the woman do not fit in in all respects.

The hunt for Baran was wall organized posses working from all points of the compass, which left no avenue open for his escape.

The most regrettable feature of the Bridley, part with the result that both the woman and baby were struck. Much excitement has prevailed in town all day and the whole talk on the streets was the shooting.

Many Galicians from the mountain settlement were in town during the day and all expressed the hope that Baran would be arrested, as they regarded him a menace to the peaceable inhabitants. The woman came here from Kamsack about a year ago, and since that time has lived with Baran, he having deserted his wife and children.

The whole proceedings was the killing of the year-old baby which was lying on the bed. A fusillade of rifle shots was fired into the house by Chief

BARAN AND WOMAN TO FACE CHARGE --- (Staff Correspondent.) Dauphin, Man., Jan. 28. - John Baran and the woman with whom he has been living since he left his real wife will be charged with attempted murder in connection with the shooting of Constable Rooke, of the provincial police force.

Statements from both Baran and the woman have been secured by Constable Parr and these will probably be presented when Baran comes up for his preliminary hearing before the Dauphin magistrate this afternoon, following the inquest on the baby of the woman who was killed by the posse when the man hunters returned the fire from the Baran cottage.

Woman Maintains She Did Shooting. The woman still maintains she did all the shooting and while it is generally admitted that she was the one who fired on the posse it is believed that it was Baran who shot Constable Rooke, Baran attempted to prove an alibi with the statement that he was at a neighboring farm when the shooting of the officer took place, but it has been shown that there was two hours' difference in the time when Rooke was shot and when Baran was at the neighbor's. This would give him plenty of time to travel from his own house to the place where he states he was at the time.

Good Looking Woman. The woman with whom Baran has been living is said to be rather good looking and well educated for one of her class. She appears to be devoutly attached to Baran and will stick by him to the last. Her devotion probably accounts for her statements that she did all the shooting, being an attempt to shield the man, Baran is said to have made threats. against Constable Rooke, who was largely responsible for having two of Baran's children by his real wife placed in the care of the Children's Aid society at Winnipeg, The other two are living with their mother near Dauphin. Baran's reputation in the neighborhood is alleged to have been such that his neighbors would make a wide detour to avoid passing his house.

WOMAN STATES SHE ALONE FIRED THE RIFLE SHOTS --- (Staff Correspondent.) Dauphin, Jan, 28. - Provincial Police Constable John Rooke has a chance for life. The woman who protested his entry to the shack of John Baran, the outlaw, is recovering, while Baran himself moods in his cell at the local police jail, remanded on a charge of wife desertion.

The developments of the last 24 hours have materially altered the whole aspect of the Riding Mountain tragedy, and apparent mysteries are likely to be cleared up. The only hopeless feature of the case is the loss of the baby life in the mountain shanty up in the bush.

The woman in the hospital, whose name is still unknown. swears that Baran was never in the house when the officers called to arrest him, claiming that she alone repulsed Rooke with a rifle. She was known here to be a skilled hand with a gun. The story now gains credence, as does her declaration that she fired the shots at Chief Bridle's posse, whose return volley shot to death her baby and so nearly ended her own life.

Baran Was Unarmed. Baran when captured yesterday, was unarmed, Deputy Chief John MacKenzie and Constable Parr were driving along a mountain trail when their man wandered out from the bush. They immediately made toward him, but he made no attempt to get away or to struggle, and came quietly back to town. Since his arrest, he has given the police no trouble whatever, and the only direct charge they have against him is that of wife desertion. It was on this charge, therefore, that he was brought before Magistrate Munson at 10.30 this morning. Until the recovery of the woman who lived with him, no further evidence can be secured against him, and he was remanded.

Woman Alone to Answer. The whole case now rests on the wounded Galician woman. If her declarations that she alone fired the shots that wounded Rooke and endangered the subsequent posse be not disapproved, she will have to answer for Rooke's hurt, perhaps for his life. If she lives herself, she cannot but Implicate Baran; it is her word against anything he says, and the matter may yet call for the judgment of a Solomon, if each persists in defending the other, or each attempts to condemn the other.

CAPTURE OF BARAN. ---- Dauphin, Man., Jan. 28. - John Baran is safely behind the steel bars of one of the cages in the Dauphin lockup today. He was brought to town at 8 O'clock last night by Detectives Mackenzie and Parr of the Winnipeg provincial force. They left yesterday morning for the other side of the mountain, taking the Elphinstone trail. This they followed for a dish of over 35 miles. Shortly after dinner they overtook Baran, who was heading for the south as fast as his legs could carry him. When apprehended he made no effort to resist arrest and quietly took his position in the sleigh with the officers. He was taken about five miles from the farm where the shooting occurred.

[notaspywrites]

Don’t Tell Me - part two

Just when you thought things couldn’t get any worse...

With Vicky still in the hospital, a traitor in their midst, and a possible terrorist attack to stop, the team has to fight to hold themselves together while still being able to save the day (as well as find the person behind it all). 

Warnings:  mentions of terrorism, depictions of violence, mentions of bombs, explosions, guns, smoking, swearing and descriptions of panic and anxiety attacks.

Word count for part two: 7,451

Author’s note: Welcome back! Here, as promised, is part two of Don’t Tell Me. A bit of a shorter update this week but the third part will be coming the same time next week, so stay tuned! As ever, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy! - not-a-spy

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Good morning Nils.” A young woman with short blond hair greeted him as he walked through the front door of the BND, holding a very large iced coffee. “How can we help you this morning?”

“Morning Katja. I have a meeting with Gatsby and Harmon, they should be expecting me.”

The receptionist frowned at him. “Do you have an official appointment?”

“I have a meeting,” he insisted. 

“Unless you have an official appointment I can’t let you through.”

“Let him through, Katja.” Harmon Boltz smiled at Nils from the other side of the security desk. “He’s got a meeting with me.”

Katja sighed and took Nils’ ID, frowning at it. “You’ll have to sign in.”

“No problem.” Nils said, quickly signing his name in the guest book. “I have two more agents coming to the meeting, if you could let them through, that would be great.”

Katja glared at him as he walked through security. 

“Morning Nils!” Harmon greeted him as they shook hands. “How’ve you been?”

Nils sighed. “Fine. Busy. I’ve got two new agents on my team and I swear to god, those two are going to kill me one day.”

“Why?” Harmon asked as they walked down a narrow corridor towards an even narrower staircase.

Nils shook his head. “They’re just, god, well, I can’t really say anything but they’ve come from MI-6 and they’ve got some issues.”

“‘Putting the team in danger’ issues or something else?”

“No, putting themselves in danger, more like. But that’s not the point. We’ve got a possible terrorist inside the police force and it’s someone you guys knew about.”

Harmon frowned, pushing open the door into a dimly lit basement. “Have you been in our files again?”

Nils smirked. “Not my fault that you guys have shitty security.”

Harmon sighed. “I feel like we’ve repaid you enough with the numerous times you’ve accessed our files.”

“I don’t think that that’s ‘repaying’ considering I did all the work myself.” Nils paused. “But seriously, thanks for this Harmon, I really appreciate it.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Harmon smiled. “When are your other agents getting here?”

“Uh…” Nils checked his watch. “They should be here any minute now, provided Katja lets them in!”

Harmon laughed. “Well, I’ll leave you here and I’ll go get them.”

Nils looked around the dark basement. “We’re meeting down here?” 

Harmon pointed at a door behind Nils labeled ‘Conference room.’ “Well, yeah. We’re meeting in there.”

“Should I ask why you have a conference room in the basement?”

Harmon grinned at him. “Probably not.” 

“Okay. I’ll wait for you guys in there.”

“Gatsby should be in there already, he can keep you company while I go collect your friends. Have I met them before?”

“I think you’ve met Maurice, right? French boy with curly hair?”

“Oh, yeah. He was here with you last year, right? When you were here on the bank robberies case.”

“That’s him. I don’t think you know the other one, he’s an MI-6 transfer. Joined Interpol two months ago.” Nils said.

“Huh. Well, I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

Harmon turned and walked back down the dark corridor towards the stairs. Nils opened the door to the conference room and stepped inside. The room was dark and dingy, the only light source a single bare bulb hanging from the ceiling.

“I feel like I’ve stepped into the X-files!” Nils laughed, stepping forward to shake Gatsby’s hand. “Why have you guys been banished to the basement?”

Gatsby smiled. “Because we aren’t supposed to be helping you with this. How have you been?” he asked quietly, turning away to pin some pictures onto a glass board. 

“Busy. My boss is currently in hospital so I’m in charge.”

“Your team was involved in that explosion yesterday, right? I heard you had two injured agents.” Gatsby turned to face him. “There were rumours that you lost someone.”

“That’s not true, thank god. Two agents did end up in hospital, but Maurice was discharged, so he’ll be helping me out here.”

“He’s the one who was here with you last time, correct?”

“Uh huh.” Nils said, setting his iced coffee down on the table and wandering over to the board. “Is this everything you guys have? I thought I sent you all my files.”

“You did.” Gatsby pointed at a board on the other side of the room. It was covered with pictures and notes on the shootings. “This is the information I found in our archives.”

“That’s not a lot.”

“No. But because Seidel is the son of the Chief Constable there isn’t a lot in his files. What there is is very difficult to get at. I would need permission from my boss, which I do not have.”

“Are the files online?” Nils asked, sitting down at the table and pulling out his laptop.

“Some. Most of the ones about his crimes are still on paper.”

Nils sighed. “Why are you guys still in the dark ages? I can’t help you if you insist on keeping hardcopies of everything. What would you do if there was a fire?”

“The files are in the basement here, in a special room. They would be safe.”

“So you have a specially constructed room for your files but you haven’t put them into the computer system yet? How does that make sense?”

Gatsby smiled. “I have nothing to do with those decisions.”

“I should talk to your superiors about this.”

“What would you say?” Gatsby asked, an incredulous smile on his face. “‘Could you please put your files into your computer system so I can hack them easily?’ I do not think that would go down well.”

Nils laughed. “Well, we need those files somehow. The ones about what he did, I mean, I have the ones on him already. There isn’t much there.”

“How do you plan on getting them?”

“Are your files guarded?” 

Gatsby frowned. “Yes.”

“Do you have to sign the files out?”

“Well, you have to tell them what you want.”

“And do they check that you’re only taking what you said you needed? Or do they grab the files for you.”

“I do not like what you’re suggesting.”

Nils grinned. “I’m not suggesting anything, I’m just curious about your file system.”

Gatsby sighed. “No. They do not check. You have to go in and grab the files yourself. If you take the files out, you sign a book and sign it again when you bring them back. You do not have to sign which specific files you are taking.”

“Excellent! Are there any other files we need?”

“You could check the files on a shooting incident we had here 3 months ago.” Gatsby said reluctantly. “We did not think it was related, but it might be good to check.”

“Great! I’ll go grab that for you.”

Gatsby shook his head in frustration. “Do not bring me into this.”

“Into what?” Nils asked innocently. “I’m just going to get a file you wanted. Anything else that might find its way here is my fault.”

Nils grinned at him and slid out of the door. He followed the hallway down past the staircase and eventually found a door labeled ‘archives.’ He knocked, and opened the door before anyone could answer. 

A woman with long black hair glanced up from her desk.

“Hi!” Nils said cheerfully. “I’m from Interpol, I’m just here to grab a file on the shooting incident last year?”

She nodded. “Go ahead. Do you know where it is?”

Nils smiled. “I’m sure I can find it, thank you!”

She turned back to her files. Nils slipped down an aisle. The organisation system was odd, not at all what he was used to and it took him longer than he wanted to find the file he was supposed to be looking for. It was a small file, and he left it on top of its box while he grabbed the others. 

Seidel’s file was easier to find, but it took up almost an entire box. Nils swore under his breath. There was no way he could get this entire thing out of here without anyone noticing and asking difficult questions. Quickly flipping through the files, Nils grabbed as many as he could hold, shoving a bunch into his bag. Putting the nearly empty box onto the shelf, Nils went back to fetch the file he was supposed to be getting and hid the other files inside of it. With the file under his arm, he went back to the front desk.

“I found it! Can I sign this out?”

“Of course.” She handed him a book. “Just put your name and the time.”

“Thanks!” Nils smiled, quickly signing his name. 

“No problem.” She said, taking the book back and barely glancing at his signature. “Have a good day.”

Nils waved at her and practically ran out of the archives back towards the conference room. Despite the fact that he was a trained agent, this wasn’t normally part of his job and he wasn’t fully comfortable with what was basically theft.

“I got ‘em!” Nils said, slamming into the conference room and letting the door swing to behind him.

Gatsby looked distinctly disappointed. Harmon just grinned. 

“Have you already gotten up to nefarious business in the,” Harmon paused to check his watch, “five minutes that I’ve been gone? That’s impressive, even for you.”

“I aim to please.” Nils said, dumping the files out onto the table. He glanced around the room as he did so. Maurice was standing by one of the glass boards, and Owens sat in a chair. He looked pale, but better than he had the day before. 

Harmon frowned at the files before Nils had a chance to speak to his team. “Are those Seidel’s files?”

“No?” 

“Nils, if we get caught…”

“If I get caught, you mean. None of this was your fault. I did all of this of my own volition. Actually, Gatsby here tried to stop me.”

Maurice tried to hide a fit of laughter behind his hands, failing miserably.

Harmon sighed. “You’re terrible.”

Nils glanced around in confusion. “How? I thought I was very good at my job. I am supposed to be getting information, aren’t I?”

“Okay, okay.” Maurice cut in, a hint of laughter lingering on the edge of his voice. “Can we move on from ethics and get to business.”

“Fine.” Harmon said. “So, you guys think he’s going to hit the ball this Saturday?”

“Yes.” Nils said. “Almost certainly, it’s a big hit and there are a lot of prominent political figures who are going to be there. In their eyes, it’s an ideal target.”

“Right. But, how sure are you? We don’t want to do all this and then have nothing happen.” 

“I looked up Seidel’s internet history early this morning before running over here. He’s looked up the event multiple times, the map of the area around it and a guest list. It’s not much but I’m pretty confident.”

“Okay.” Harmon said. “I’ll take that.”

“What was your plan for dealing with the police?” Gatsby asked. “You know that Seidel is one of the people behind this, what are you going to do to avoid him guessing your plans.”

“The rest of our team is back at police headquarters preparing them for an attack on the mall tomorrow.” Nils said.

“What makes you think he’ll buy that?”

“One of our agents has made an attempt to befriend him, I suppose? Anyways, it seems to be working so far, so if we can get Seidel to trust him, it’ll be easier to give him the fake story about the mall, since he’s already heard it from someone.”

Gatsby frowned. “Depends how good your agent is.”

Nils sighed and shook his head. “Must you always be so sceptical? I have a good team and they know what they’re doing. We can handle Seidel. Now, can we please get to business?”

*****

As Nils and Gatsby started talking shop, Harmon glanced around at the other two agents. Maurice had joined the conversation, leaning over the table. He was objecting to the idea of having too many agents in the ball, saying they’d stand out in these political circles where everyone knew each other. The other agent, presumably the MI-6 transfer that Nils had told him about, was still silent. Harmon eyed him suspiciously. He looked familiar, like he’d seen his face on a bulletin or something and hadn’t remembered to forget it yet. But that wasn’t possible. Bulletins like that were reserved for traitors, dangerous criminals, people to be looked out for. Not only would Nils never allow someone like that onto his team, but the agent sitting in front of him didn’t look capable of the mental strength that kind of thing took.  

But that was the exact kind of thing that made good agents. Harmon frowned, pretending to shuffle some files. Not that the agent had noticed him staring. His eyes, partially hidden behind his auburn hair, seemed to be focused on something that only he could see. Harmon wondered what he was thinking. Was he listening to their plans, gathering information to give to his superiors later? More importantly, who were his superiors? Was he working with Seidel or was something bigger at work here? 

“Harmon?” 

Nils’ voice cut into his suspicions and, for the moment, Harmon pushed them aside, resolving to talk to Nils in private when he had a chance. 

“Huh? Sorry, I zoned out for a minute there!”

Nils eyed him suspiciously. “Like I was saying, you’re going to be actually inside the ball with Maurice and Cipriana. You got a nice suit?”

Harmon laughed. “Sure I do. So I’ve been relegated to collecting info, huh?”

“Yes you have. You’ll blend in better at the ball than Gatsby here.” Nils smirked at him and Harmon laughed. He was right.

“So where will I be?” Gatsby asked.

“Trailing Seidel. Someone needs to keep an eye on him and he’ll recognize any of my guys.”

Gatsby nodded. “Of course. If you don’t mind, I’ll bring one of the trainees with me. I’ll need some help.”

“For sure.” Nils nodded. 

“What about myself and Adalie?” The agent spoke for the first time. His voice was weak, but Harmon immediately snapped to attention. He wasn’t British. He had a British accent, sure, but it sounded like his own, unnatural and well-practiced. 

“You’ll also be there, but you and Adalie are going in as staff.”

“So no suit?” The agent smiled hopefully.

Nils laughed. “Sorry, Owens, you’re gonna have to wear a suit. You’re going in as wait staff. If it makes you feel better, Adalie is going to have to wear a skirt.”

Owens laughed. “That’s not going to go down well.”

“Nope. None of this cover is going to go down well.”

Harmon watched them, frowning. Had Nils been tricked into believing this agent’s cover? They certainly seemed to be good friends, but he couldn’t tell if that friendship was real on both sides. He couldn’t believe that Nils would be tricked so easily. He quite liked Nils and he trusted him, but there was something distinctly off about Owens. He just didn’t know what. If he could remember where he had seen him before, that would help. 

Harmon watched him intently for a second, studying the face he was sure he had seen before. Then it hit him. 

Sometime in early 2015, MI-6 had been involved in an incredibly audacious attempt to shut down one of the most notorious crime rings of all time. MI-6 referred to it as WBFC. The exact details of the mission had never been released, but two agents had died and another had disappeared. He was suspected of being the mole responsible for multiple deaths and, as MI-6 had claimed, the possible collapse of the entire agency. They had issued a special bulletin in order to locate him. That’s where he had seen Owens. He was the agent.

Harmon froze. How could Nils not know who Owens was? If he could recognize him from a bulletin issued many years ago then Nils with all of his computers must have dug up something. He frowned. There had been a whisper about the mole being cleared, someone else had been discovered. Someone had said that Owens had been framed and that was entirely possible but something about him just didn’t sit right with Harmon. He was closed off, and whatever emotions he seemed to be showing were obviously falsified. 

“So!” Harmon startled as Nils clapped his hands together. “I think that’s pretty clear.”

The others nodded. Nils looked at him pointedly and nodded towards the door.

“Can we talk?” Nils asked, already standing and moving towards the door. Harmon nodded and got out of his chair. Owens started questioningly at them as they left. Nils shut the door behind them.

“You know about Owens’ past?” Harmon asked quietly. “I’m just worried about the integrity of your team.”

Nils’ face was hard and unfriendly, his back pressed against the door to the conference room. “Of course I do. It’s none of your business.”

“It is, if he’s putting this mission in jeopardy! I’m sorry, Nils, I don't even know the kid, but you have to admit that he’s acting shifty! And he’s got a history of this shit!” Harmon fought to keep his voice below a shout, flinging his arms wide to compensate for the lack of volume.

“No. You do not get to talk about a member of my team like that.” Nils’ voice was quiet and tense, just above a growl. “He does not have a history, he was framed. And he’s not ‘acting shifty’ as you like to say.”

“Really? What do you call that then?” Harmon waved violently, smacking his hand against the wall.

“I can’t…” Nils paused, shaking his head as if in pain, “I can’t disclose agents personal issues. But the kid’s going through a tough time right now and he’s just trying to work through some stuff. Unfortunately, that means shutting himself off from the world and putting up more walls. That’s why he’s acting weird.”

Nils stopped, running his hands through his hair. He didn’t look at Harmon and he suddenly felt very guilty for doubting him. 

“I’m sorry Nils, I didn’t realize.”

“No. And it’s not me you should be apologizing to.” Nils turned and walked back into the conference room, not looking at Harmon as he purposefully closed the door behind him. 

He stood in the corridor, leaning his head back against the wall. Nils was probably right, he knew his team better than anyone else, hell, he probably knew them better than they did themselves. Harmon took a deep breath before walking back into the room.

*****

“Where is your ‘technical analyst?’” Seidel asked, stopping next to where Chalice was leaning against the wall. “The tall Swede with the blond hair.”

Chalice shrugged and rolled his eyes. “God knows where he is. He’ll probably show up soon.”

Seidel checked his watch. “You are supposed to be presenting at 9am, correct?”

“Yeah. But we can handle it without him if he decides not to show up.” Chalice said nonchalantly, looking at Seidel out of the corner of his eye. Seidel seemed pleasantly surprised.

“Even down three agents?” Seidel asked.

“I mean, it makes it harder, but we can do it.” Chalice said confidently. 

The confidence was completely fake, if Nils didn’t show up, he wasn’t sure that the three of them could pull this off by themselves. He took another long drag from his cigarette, already feeling guilty. He had promised Owens he would quit and here they were, both lying to each other. Somehow, that didn’t make it any better. 

“You are a very competent team.” Seidel said. “I am sure that, with you, this operation tomorrow cannot go wrong.”

Chalice smiled, trying to appear cheerful. They had almost no hope of a successful operation on Saturday, what with Vicky out and Owens in no condition to be in the field. He wouldn’t exactly be helping matters either. He wasn’t trained and they all knew that. Putting him out in the field could be dangerous. But he was determined to do his best. He wasn’t going to let Nils and the rest of the team down. He couldn’t.

“Hey!” 

Chalice quickly stubbed out his cigarette on the wall behind him, Seidel suppressing a smile as Chalice’s eyes widened in panic.

“Chalice, please tell me you aren’t smoking again.” Nils sighed in disappointment as he approached where the pair were leaning against the wall of the building. He had another full iced coffee in his hand. 

“I’m not smoking.” Chalice said guiltily, holding the cigarette behind his back. 

Nils and Seidel exchanged a glance, Nils shaking his head. Seidel smiled, stamping out his own cigarette. 

“Fine, whatever you say.” Nils said, taking a sip of his iced coffee. “We should get going, we need to prep before we debrief the police. We’ll see you later, Seidel.”

Seidel nodded as Nils and Chalice walked towards the building, Chalice quickly dropping his cigarette into a garbage bin as they passed. Nils frowned. 

“You’ll have to quit if you really want to become an agent.” He said, holding open the front door. 

“We both know that isn’t likely.” Chalice sighed. “I’m not cut out for that and you know it.”

“But you’re still going to try for it, aren’t you?” Nils stopped in surprise. “I thought you really wanted to be an agent.”

“I do. But I’m not an agent. I mean,” Chalice threw his arms wide, “look at me. I don’t look like an agent, do I?”

Nils smirked. “I mean, what does an agent look like? If we’re going by James Bond standards, none of us really look like agents. Except maybe Owens. Speaking of looking like an agent, Chalice,” Nils paused, “you aren’t gonna like this part.”

“What part?” Chalice asked suspiciously.

“You’ll be going into this ball undercover.”

“So I’m going to have to learn how to wear my clothes properly?”

Nils laughed. “Among other things.”

“Other things?” 

Nils sighed. “”You’re going to have to dye your hair.”

“I’m what?” Chalice demanded, stopping just outside the door to the team’s conference room.

“You’re going to have to dye your hair brown. Trust me, Chaice, I wouldn’t ask you unless…”

“No.” Chalice interrupted him. “No deal. The hair stays.”  

“It can’t. Chalice I’m sorry, but you can change it back once we’re done.”

“Nope. The grey stays.”

“If you really want to be out there, the hair has to go.” Nils gave him a hard look. “You’ll stand out like a sore thumb if you go in there like that.”

“The piercings I’ll take out but the hair stays grey.” Chalice brushed his fingers through it, toying unhappily with the ends. 

“I can’t let you go with the hair. You can keep the undercut but it has to be neutral. Brown, blond, even black, but it has to be neutral.” Nils took another sip of his iced coffee. 

“Fine.” Chalice sighed, heavily. “But I won’t be happy about it.”

“Of course you won’t be. No one is.” Nils smiled. “Adalie is going to have to wear a skirt.”

Chalice winced in sympathy. “Ouch. I wouldn’t want to be in your situation. She’ll rip your face off.”

“Yeah. And I thought you were difficult. Actually, I was expecting more of a fuss from Owens but I don’t think he’s in much of a state to put up a fight right now.”

Chalice laughed. It wasn’t forced this time. “Are you making him wear a suit?”

“Of course.” Nils smiled as he pushed open the door to the conference room. “Look, Chalice, I promise it’ll be worth it. You’ll get a taste of life in the field and get to be a hero in the process. All you have to do is dye your hair.”

Chalice pulled a face, stepping into the room after him. “If you say so.”

“Nice to see you’ve decided to show up.” Adalie said, looking pointedly at her watch. “Are we supposed to work by your time or did you expect us to go on without you?”

Nils took a sip of his iced coffee before putting it on the table and taking off his scarf. “I’m sorry Adalie, the meeting with the BND went late because they were intent of accusing one of us of being the mole and I had to step in to defend his reputation.”

Adalie and Cipriana shared a look. Nils froze, glaring at them.

“Don’t tell me I have to go off on you too. Cause that means someone’s going to have to buy me another coffee and no one wants that.” 

Cipriana laughed. “Don’t worry, we all know it’s Seidel. No one is going to accuse any of our team of being a traitor.”

Cipriana shot Adalie a pointed glance and she nodded. Chalice, sitting at the table next to Cipriana, hung his head and stared at the table. 

“Good. We can’t be having any of that.” Nils took another sip of his iced coffee and sat down. “So, do we kind of know what we’re doing at least?”

“Yes.” Adalie said confidently.

“I think so!” Cipriana smiled.

“We’re just hanging around at the mall, waiting for people to blow us up, correct?” Chalice asked, a trace of a smirk on his lips.

Cipriana and Nils laughed.

“That’s the basic gist of it, yes.” Nils said. “All of us will be stationed around the inside of the mall, looking for suspicious activity. There will be a handful of undercover police inside as well, but for the most part, they will be waiting outside in case of an attack.”

Everyone nodded. 

“What if they do end up attacking the mall?” Cipriana asked.

“Why would they do that?” Adalie snapped. “They think that we don’t know their plans, so they think they’ve gotten away with it. Why change last minute and blow up a half empty mall and risk getting caught in the process?”

“Yeah, but it’ll only be the four of us and we can’t cover everywhere. If Seidel slips in earlier, he could blow the building up with us inside and get rid of four more agents pretty easily.” Chalice interjected before Cipriana could reply.

Nils nodded contemplatively. “Yeah, you’re right but I don’t think he’d risk it. Not with a much more prestigious event coming up Saturday and us sniffing around right under their noses. Plus,I agree with Adalie, I think we can assume that they wouldn’t change their plans in the hope of killing a few agents, it would make too much of a stink.”

“Okay.” Cipriana said.

“Right!” Nils stood up and took another sip of his iced coffee. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

Seidel nodded at them as they filed out of the conference room into the main area of the station. The entire police force was waiting for them, sitting on chairs and miscellaneous pieces of furniture where there were no more chairs available. 

Nils introduced himself and the team, speaking in rapid German that Cipriana and Chalice couldn’t understand. The two of them stood there awkwardly, occasionally exchanging confused glances. Nils continued talking, gesturing to emphasize his point. 

Adalie cut in, obviously elaborating on something Nils had just said.

“Thank you.” Seidel said in English after several more minutes of talking. “I did have one question.”

“Go ahead!” Nils smiled, taking another sip from his iced coffee.

“Are we planning on evacuating the mall? I mean, there will be lots of people there and we want to make sure there are as few casualties as possible, no?” Seidel asked, his face a mask of fake concern.

Nils frowned and shook his head, looking over at Chalice.  

“No, we aren’t.” Chalice said. “ I know, we are putting a lot of innocent people at risk and it’s not the way that I’d like it to be, but if we evacuate the mall we risk alerting them to our plans and they may not go ahead at all, which puts us at a loss as to where they might strike next. Unfortunately, this is the only way we can catch them.”

Seidel frowned. “I’m not pleased with that idea.”

Chalice sighed heavily. “Frankly, neither am I, however that’s how it goes in this job unfortunately.”

Nils stepped in. “Myself and my three agents will be there, as well as your team, so I can assure you we will do our absolute best to get these guys and ensure that nobody gets hurt. All of us are well-trained in this sort of thing, if they’re there, we’ll catch them.” 

Nils spoke with a confidence that Chalice admired. Even though all of this was just made up for the sole benefit of Seidel, Nils spoke as if he was sure this was going to go down in the exact way he said it would. That was a gift not many people had. Nils was excellent at making people feel comfortable, getting them to trust him even if he was just spewing bullshit like he was right now. Even Seidel nodded reluctantly.

“Okay. But why do you say ‘if?’ Do you not expect them to be there?”

“It’s possible that they’ll plant the bomb and leave, but not likely. We’ve seen that they like to be at the scene of the crime when the bombs go off. If they don’t hang around, we’ve got a bomb squad on call with dogs to find the devices as quickly as possible. Don’t worry. We have all our bases covered.”

Seidel nodded and gestured for the rest of the officers to go. They started filing out, chattering amongst themselves.

“Thank you very much. We appreciate it.”

Nils smiled. Chalice wasn’t entirely sure how he could at this point, he himself was tired and stressed, worried about Owens and about how the attack was going to play out. 

“No problem. We’ll see you tomorrow. Let’s hope everything goes well.” Nils said, taking another sip of his iced coffee. 

Seidel gave him a tight-lipped smile and strode out of the room. As soon as he was gone, Nils sighed and chugged the rest of his iced coffee. 

“Tomorrow is going to be one hell of a boring day.”

*****

Chalice sighed heavily, glancing around the mall once again. For a Thursday afternoon, it was relatively quiet and Chalice could see everyone in the food court. No one stood out or even looked remotely suspicious. If only Owens was here. He had always been so much better at picking out suspicious people, though Chalice had always joked that that was because Owens didn’t trust anyone. Now, that seemed a little too pertinent. Chalice shook his head sadly. 

“Anything?” Nils asked, his voice loud in Chalice’s earpiece, almost making him jump out of his skin. 

“Absolutely nothing. Nils, we’ve been here for 6 hours, can we please call it a day at this point?” Chalice asked. They had been hanging around since the mall opened at 9 am and had been set to stay until it closed at 9 pm. It was only 3. 

Nils laughed. “Unfortunately, we have to stay. I know it’s a very long time to sit around doing nothing but it’s all part of the job.”

“I hate surveillance on a good day. This shit isn’t even surveillance, it’s just pretend surveillance.”

“I know. But we’ll make up for it when we catch the bastards, don’t you worry about it.”

“Sure. Nils, you saw Owens yesterday. How’s he doing?”

Nils didn’t respond for a moment. “Have you not spoken to him?”

“No, I haven’t seen him at all. I did knock on his door before I left this morning but I didn’t get anything in response.”

Nils sighed. “That’s not good. I don’t think he’s doing too good honestly, I mean, he seemed fine when I saw him yesterday morning but he’s definitely not 100% at the moment.”

“Right. I’ll see if I can talk to him tonight.” Chalice nodded automatically, absently chewing on his lower lip. “That stuff you said yesterday, about the BND suspecting the mole was one of our agents, that was Owens, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Nils replied. “It’s just not fair, is it? He’s already under so much stress, he really doesn’t need this suspicion hanging over his head again.”

“You’re right.”

“Yeah, well, I gotta check in on the rest of the team. Good luck on your surveillance, Chalice, I’ll talk to you again later.” Nils said. The line went dead. 

Chalice stood up from his bench and glanced around the foodcourt again before casually wandering off towards the main area of the mall. 

There weren’t as many people hanging around in this portion of the building and Chalice quickly assessed all of them. No one suspicious. Not that he thought there would be. Seidel and whoever he was working with were much too smart to attempt anything under the noses of four Interpol agents. This was all just an incredibly elaborate and boring show put on for his benefit. Hopefully, Seidel didn’t know that. 

“Hey!” 

Chalice jumped as Seidel came up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Sorry!” Seidel laughed. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s alright.” Chalice smiled. “I think we’re all a little on edge today.”

“Mm. It is worse since nothing seems to be happening.”

“Yeah.” Chalice glanced around. “I wonder what they’re playing at.”

“I do not know. But if I were them I would not be planning to attack a mall on a Thursday when it is so quiet.” Seidel spoke with a hint of a smirk on his face and Chalice looked at him sharply. 

Was it possible that Seidel knew about their ruse? He didn’t think so, they had been incredibly careful to keep everything under wraps but there was always the possibility that the conference room had been bugged.

“Maybe they expected it to be busier.” Chalice said. “It does seem a little odd, but we have good information that they are going to attack today. It’s likely that they aren’t German, then they wouldn’t really know how things work around here.”

“Ah, that is true.” Seidel said. “What will you do if they do not attack today?”

Seidel was letting his guard down. Even if he wasn’t a trained agent, Chalice could still tell when someone was probing him for information and that was definitely what Seidel was doing now. Since he thought they were friends, he had stopped trying to be subtle about it. Chalice was mildly insulted, did Seidel really think that he was that stupid? But he was only mildly insulted. After all, he was only a liaison. 

“We’ll probably have to go back to London. Things are pretty busy over there. If nothing happens I wouldn’t be surprised if we have to fly back tomorrow.”

“Really? That seems very fast.” Seidel almost seemed to relax at that piece of information.

“Yeah, well Interpol suffers from a lack of agents so they’ll need us back there as soon as possible. If there is something today though we’ll probably have to stick around for a bit.”

“Makes sense. But isn’t your unit chief still in hospital?”

“Yeah. I suppose someone will have to stay behind to look after her until she can fly again. Honestly, it will either end up being myself or Nils, since we’re the only ones who can be left behind.”

Seidel laughed incredulously. “Surely that is not true!”

“I’m not even a trained agent so I’m basically useless in their eyes.” Chalice laughed. “And Nils is only a tech analyst.”

Chalice could practically taste the blasphemy as he spoke and made up his mind to buy Nils a coffee later by way of an apology.

“Do you not need your tech analyst?” Seidel asked.

“Nah.” Chalice mentally added a slice of lemon loaf to Nils’ Starbucks order. “There are other ones in our office.”

“I see.” Seidel said and checked his watch. “I suppose that we should get back to our surveillance. I will talk to you later.”

Chalice nodded and watched for a few seconds as Seidel walked away in the opposite direction. He wasn’t fully convinced that Seidel didn’t know that this whole exercise was just a decoy but if he believed that they would go home on Saturday then that was probably good enough. 

He sighed and looked around the mall again. It was going to be a long three hours.

*****

“That was a useless exercise.” Adalie complained. 

The team and Seidel were back at police headquarters, sitting in the conference room. It was nearly 11pm and the rest of the building was silent. Everyone else had gone home for the night. 

“We should have known they wouldn’t hit on a Thursday,” she continued, leaning back in her chair and passing a hand over her face.

Cipriana yawned. “Yeah, those messages must have been a decoy.”

Seidel shook his head in disbelief. “Chalice told me you would be going home if this fell through.”

Nils, who had just walked back into the room, cell phone still in hand, nodded. “Unfortunately that’s the plan. We need to be back. Lack of agents.”

Nils stifled a yawn and brushed his fingers through his hair.

“Not me though. I will be staying here to keep an eye on Vicky.” He glanced around, hiding another yawn behind his hand. “Where’s Chalice?”

“I’m right here!” Chalice said, opening the door with his back. In his hands he had two starbucks drinks and a small bag. 

Nils looked at him suspiciously. “Coffee? Why?”

“Mine is not coffee. Not at 11pm. But yours is.” Chalice said, holding him a very large iced coffee and the small bag. 

“What’s all this in aid of?”

Chalice glanced over at Seidel. “I’ll explain later.”

“Right.”

As Nils spoke, Seidel got up. “I am disappointed. Without you here, more innocent people will die.”

“We have to go home, it isn’t our choice.” Chalice said gently. 

“I understand. But I do not like it. Goodbye.” Seidel said, leaving the room and letting the door slam to behind him. 

Nils raised his eyebrows and Chalice giggled. Cipriana was less subtle, bursting into fits of laughter. 

“I do not like it.” Adalie mimicked him, barely finishing her sentence before dissolving into laughter. 

“Okay.” Nils said, struggling to control his laughter. “Okay, get back to the hotel you guys. I’ll see you tomorrow at 7am at the BND.”

“You’re headed back there now aren’t you?” Chalice asked. 

“Yeah.” Nils sighed. “Yes I am. Thanks for the coffee, Chalice, but why?”

Chalice laughed. “I’m so sorry but I had to shit talk you to Seidel earlier to maintain our cover of why you’re staying here.”

“And that warranted buying me coffee and a lemon loaf?” Nils laughed. “I mean, I’m not complaining but that’s a little extreme.”

“Nah, not at all.”

Cipriana giggled. “Okay boys. We are headed back to the hotel and we’ll see you tomorrow bright and early. Night!”

“Night!” Chalice said. 

Nils just nodded. “Aren’t you headed back too?”

“Nope, I’m coming with you to the BND. I lied.” Chalice said, raising his coffee cup. “It is coffee.”

“You don’t have to do this, y’know. You should go back to the hotel and sleep, get some rest.” 

“No.” Chalice said, his voice firm. “I’m coming with you. Owens will still be there, won’t he?”

Nils sighed. “Of course he will. That boy works too hard, Chalice, I have to convince him to leave the office some nights.”

“You’re one to talk.” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’m worried about him.”

“You aren’t the only one. That’s why I’m coming with you, to check on him. Make sure he’s okay.” Chalice sighed. “He’s not been himself lately. I should have known the attacks had gotten worse.”

“You couldn’t have seen it.” Nils said, picking up his coffee and walking out of the office, Chalice close behind him.

“Yes, I could. I’ve known him for ages, I should have seen that something was wrong.”

“No.” Nils stopped, turning to face him. “Chalice, do not blame yourself for this. I know how you feel about him but the only thing you can do now is be there and try to look after him.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do.” Chalice gave him a wry smile as they walked out of the police headquarters. 

*****

“Morning!”

Vicky looked up at Nils’ horribly cheerful voice. It was 11 am but she was utterly exhausted. The pain had kept her awake all night and she just wanted to sleep.

“Hi Nils.” She said.

“Hey! How are you feeling boss?” 

She smiled weakly. “Not wonderful, but I’m still alive. How’s the team doing? Are you guys all ready for the raid tomorrow?”

“Well, we’re glad that you’re alive, that’s for sure! I don’t know how we’d survive with you. The team…” Nils sighed, “well, they’re doing okay.”

Vicky’s brow creased. “What’s going on?”

“Has Owens told you about his attacks?”

“Yes, he did. But he told me that he had gotten better and he was fit to work.” Vicky frowned at him. “You have to tell me if something is wrong and you know it.”

“The attacks have come back. I think they’re worse now, Vicky, and I’m worried that he’s going to put himself in danger. He told me he’s seeing a psychologist.”

“Is he on meds?”

“No. Cause that means that he wouldn’t be able to work. Vicky, this job is his life, the poor boy doesn’t have anything outside of it and frankly, I’m worried that he’d get worse without it.”

“Nils,” Vicky sighed, “I’m going to have to report this to the board and he’ll have to be assessed.”

Nils’ eyes went wide with panic. “No, Vicky, you can’t, please.”

“Nils, I know you want to protect this team, but you have to look after yourself too.Owens isn’t your responsibility.”

“He needs my help. They all do.”

“You can’t keep doing this!” Vicky said, struggling to sit up. “Honestly, Nils, you’re the one I’m worried about. Owens has only been here two months, he’s only on probation, but I can’t lose you.”

“What part of ‘this job is all he has’ don’t you understand? Vicky, him not being here would be worse than him being here.”

“Not if it puts the team in danger. I know that you want to protect him, but you have to consider the risks! If he gets an attack while on a mission, everyone would be screwed. People could die, Nils!”

Nils hung his head.

“Tell me you aren’t taking him with you tomorrow.”

“I have to. Even with the boys from the BND I don’t have enough agents.”

“Fuckin,” Vicky mumbled, shaking her head, “Nils, that’s not a good idea. You’re going to have to make do with the five of you and the BND boys.”

“I’ll have to be in the truck. And I have Gatsby on Seidel, I need Owens in the field.” Nils said, and Vicky could hear that he was struggling to keep his voice from breaking.

“You cannot put him in that situation! For his own sake, as well as everyone else's!” 

“Vicky, I have no other option. Besides, he would never let me take him off the mission without a fight. I have been preparing the team for this all week, I can’t change the plan on them now.” Nils looked as if he was about to break down and Vicky felt incredibly sorry for him. There was nothing she could have done about it but it felt very unfair to leave him in charge of the team. 

“Okay. Alright Nils, do what you have to do. But I am going to have to report him to the board, you know that.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I do know that and I wish you didn’t but we gotta do the bureaucracy, right?” He gave her a weak smile and she made a mental note to put him down for extra days off once she was back in London.

“Yup. Thanks for dropping in, Nils, and good luck tomorrow.”

He nodded and left the room wordlessly. He looked terrible, definitely not fit to be leading the team in an important mission like this one. From here, though, there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. She’d have to talk to Maurice and get him to keep an eye on Nils while she was in the hospital.

[arlome]

phrack for #1 on the kiss prompts? (and if I can be extra greedy... jack being the one pushed up against a wall? 👀)

That’s....exactly what I had in mind, babe! Great minds think alike :D

There’s a raid.

It’s ugly and dangerous and full of blood and spilling guts and gunpowder. When the smoke clears, and the bodies can be counted and identified, it becomes abundantly obvious that the sweep was not as successful as Russell Street hoped it would be. Seven dead police officers, thirteen dead crims; the number of injured on both sides can fill a bloody hospital. 

Phryne can hear the sirens all the way from her kitchen. The perfectly made cup of tea rattles in her hand as she tries to nonchalantly place it back in its saucer, as she raises her face to smile nervously at her rather heavily expecting companion.

“Did... Hugh mention anything about today, Dot?” she asks innocently, but the pitch of her voice rises a little towards the end of her question, and the younger woman frowns suspiciously at the well-known ‘tell’.

“Like what, Miss?”

“Oh, nothing, really,” Phryne mumbles and tugs a little on the hair at her nape. “Just something... out of the ordinary, perhaps?” 

Mr Butler, God bless his clairvoyant soul, decides to take pity on his employer and lays down the potato he’s been pealing rather attentively.

“I’ll telephone the Station, Miss; I promised to notify the Inspector of any changes regarding supper plans,” he explains and rises from his seat.

There are no supper plans to speak of, of course; Jack’s supposed to be spending the evening with his parents, and Phryne was rather looking forward to finishing her latest Agatha Christie book in peace. Nothing planned but an early, solitary night. 

She really aught to give Mr Butler a raise.

“Thank you, Mr B,” she exhales, incredibly grateful. “I’m sure Jack would appreciate that.” 

I know I would.

The call doesn’t take long; Mr Butler is back before she knows it. There’s a slight crease in his brow. 

“The Inspector wasn’t in, Miss,” he says, choosing his words carefully, and darting a few worried glances in Dottie’s direction. “I’m afraid there’s been some trouble in Fitzroy and he was called to assist.”

She’s out of her chair and out of her house faster than anybody can say ‘Jack Robinson’.

                                                          ***

There’s no news at the Station. All Phryne can extract from the stammering, freshly-minted, wet-behind-the-ears constable at the front desk is that there’s been a serious raid of some illegal gambling den in Fitzroy and that Inspector Robinson and a handful of senior constables from City South were called to assist.  

She calls Mac at the Melbourne, barely getting through, her heart pounding in her chest.

“It’s bad, Phryne,” Mac sounds exhausted, “ Complete pandemonium. Reminds me of, well... “

She trails off, not finishing her thought, but Phryne understands; the green fields of France, turned muddy and bloody - there’s no running from them.

“Look, I’ve not seen Jack or Collins,” Mac mutters into the receiver, “but they’re not among the dead.” 

Phryne breathes a sigh of relief, her eyes burning. She can hear shuffling on the other line, distant moaning in the background; somebody’s calling Mac’s name.

“I’ve got to go, Phryne,” he friend says, the tone of her voice turning clipped, clinical. “I’ll telephone if anything changes.”

She doesn’t call.

                                                          ***

They’re trying to keep it quiet from Dot, distracting her with light chores, and biscuits whenever the subject of ‘Hugh’ seems to arise. So far, Phryne’s acquired a new doily for her little side table, tasted a batch of freshly baked sponge cakes, and admired a newly embroidered cushion for her parlour. Eventually, she decided to gently, but firmly, guide her protesting companion to a spare bedroom for a quick lie down, claiming that she must rest a bit for the baby’s sake. This seems to finally convince the reluctant Dot, and Phryne is left to her morbidly musings in the parlour.

A little after seven pm, Jack stumbles through her front door and is immediately relieved of his coat and hat by a fawning Mr Butler. She stands in the doorway to her parlour, appraising his form with the critical eye of a seasoned battle nurse. Laceration just above the left eyebrow, a purpling bloom on his right cheekbone; there’s blood on his collar, but she doubts it’s his.

He looks up and into her eyes, and his own are full of something; quite suddenly, she finds it difficult to breathe, hard to move under the onslaught of flooding emotions rushing through her body. He’s alive, seemingly well - at least physically - got all his limbs and all his internal organs on the inside. Her hands are shaking as she retreats into the parlour, the adrenaline that fueled her afternoon finally packing up and leaving her system. Her lips tremble. Jack follows her inside, weary and self-conscious, and she nearly laughs at his semi-guilty expression. It’s probably hysteria.

“Phryne?” he asks hesitantly and closes the parlour doors behind them. It’s a smart move on his part - good thinking - she’s not in the right state of mind to do much of that at the moment. 

She’s vaguely aware of filtered noises behind the closed doors. Dot has woken up and Mr Butler is ushering her into the kitchen, no doubt armed with a stiff cup of tea and some scones. Phryne’s knows that she should probably inquire after Hugh, should ask of the state of Jack’s other lads, but she can’t seem to tear her eyes from his handsome, vital face.

He’s alive - alive, alive. Alive.

Phryne lunges at him, knocking him backwards, her fingers digging into the lapels of his jacket. She shoves him against the door, swallows the strangled ‘oof’ tumbling from his lips at the impact, bites his lower lip for entry, slides her tongue into his mouth. She’s wild and ecstatic, relieved beyond measure, nearly delirious at the hasty thrum of Jack’s pulse underneath her fingers as she ghosts them over his neck. He seems to revive under the onslaught, groans into her mouth, pulls her flush against him. She can feel his erection pressing into her belly, her own desire for him almost painful in its intensity.

“Jack,” she gasps against his lips, “you’re alive.”

It’s a somewhat redundant statement, but she’s certain he won’t fault her for a little verbal reassurance.

Jack releases her and kisses her forehead. 

“I am, and so are the rest of my lads,” he exhales, and Phryne can feel his breath on her ear. “It was such a bloodbath, Phryne.”

“Why didn’t you call?” she asks, mortified at the slight tremor in her voice. He pulls her to him again, lowers his lips to her neck.

“I was stuck at Russell Street all day, then I went to the hospital. One of my men got banged up pretty badly - not Collins!” he hastens to say when she jerks in his arms. Phryne sags against his chest in relief. “It’s Jenkins. He’s going to pull through, but it’ll take some time. Then I came here, only to be assaulted.”

Phryne shoves him mockingly at the words, and he stumbles backwards, clutching at his chest dramatically. She has to swallow the laughter bubbling up in her throat.

“I don’t recall you objecting much, Inspector,” she says slyly, instead.

Jack’s eyes are burning as he regards her seriously, previous comical nonsense forgotten. 

“No,” he concedes, his voice a low, throaty rumble. “No objections here, Miss Fisher.”

She wants to eat him alive, to strip him of all his layers till he’s bare before her - in more ways than one - she wants to writhe above him and take him into her body and keep him in her heart.

“Have you heard about ‘glad you’re not dead’ sex, Jack?” she quips, her fingers playing with the buttons on the front of her blouse.

Jack’s eyes stray downwards for a swift second before he fixes them back on her face.

“Can’t say that I have, Miss Fisher,” he delivers dryly, the corner of his generous mouth inching upwards. “Is it some sort of cocktail?” 

She almost laughs again but manages to smother the amusement before it breaks out of her throat. This ever-going dance between them mustn’t be interrupted.

“Would you like me to show you?” 

His eyes flash with desire, mirth, fondness; his lips quirk. He’s diverted and wanting, and Phryne finds it the best combination in the world. He looks into her eyes, blinking slowly.

“More than anything.”

There’s a raid.

It’s ugly and dangerous and full of blood and spilling guts and gunpowder.

But he’s alive.