A palpable panic spread through the street, with Stout demanding that the cordon be moved back, asserting his authority in a way that would be missed when he stepped down. As everyone scurried away, Stout sent two bomb defusal experts towards Lucy and Singh held her breath as they slowly lifted the bomb over her head, freeing her from her explosive chains. Carefully, they transitioned the dead man’s switch into the gloved grip of the brave officer who then instructed his teammate to remove her from the scene.
Moments later, the expert confirmed that he’d defused the bomb and to the relief of everyone, the switch had been deactivated.
Despite the promise of safety, Lucy seemed hesitant to move, jerking her neck back to look up at the building.
Sam was still in there.
Singh shared her concern.
As she was ushered towards the cars, Singh and Commissioner Stout approached her, with Stout wrapping his warm jacket around her shoulder.
‘You are safe now, Mrs Farmer,’ he assured her; his words full of clarity.
‘Lucy?’ A voice called out from the crowd and she raised her head. Tears of relief began to fall as she saw her husband, Nick, stood at the edge of the cordon and as the rain lashed down upon her, she raced through the swathes of officers to embrace him. Singh made to follow, but Stout gripped her shoulder with a firm hand.
‘Let her go,’ Stout said. ‘We’ll talk to her when this is over.’
‘Sir, we need to know what the situation is.’
‘Our Armed Response Unit is in place. They’ll be moving in shortly.’ Stout noticed the concern on Singh’s face and smiled. There was clearly more than a professional interest at stake. ‘Don’t worry, Singh. They know who the target is.’
Before Singh could respond, a gunshot echoed from the building, causing a shriek of excitement from the street. Singh’s heart raced and she took a step forward. Stout shook his head and demanded an update into his radio.
Three more shots echoed out and Singh burst into action, ignoring Stouts calls for her to stop. She burst through the emergency door and into the derelict reception of the hospital, scanning the room until her eyes fell on the stairwell. As she began to climb the steps, she heard the clattering of footsteps above her and she stopped, waiting in trepidation as her armed colleagues descended towards her.
Sam was among them.
Singh took a breath.
Despite moving gingerly, and with blood pouring from his eye and neck, he seemed fine as he approached her, but she could see the devastation on his face. She made her way down the stairs and back into the reception, allowing the officers to filter out and Sam emerged, shuffling with his hands once again cuffed behind his back.
‘Sam,’ she called to him. He didn’t respond.
Sam took three steps towards her and then buried his head in her shoulder, allowing himself a moment of grief. Singh held him tightly, closing her eyes and stroking the back of his hair. The last six months had told her that he didn’t fear prison. Sam was more than willing to pay the heavy price of his actions.
He pulled away and looked her in the eyes, nodded, and then for the second time in the space of a month, he allowed Singh to lead him out of a building in cuffs, but this time, there was no rampant excitement at his capture.
As they took their first step down the steps, the ARU stood to the side, forming a guard of honour for Sam and to Singh’s shock, they saluted. Sam stopped, taken aback by the show of respect and he nodded his thanks to them.
They took another step and an audible clap went up and as they moved cautiously towards the police cars, an echo of applause spread throughout the onlookers, all of them showing their appreciation for Sam’s bravery. Singh squeezed his arm, her eyes watering at the overwhelming response for Sam.
With half his face covered in blood, he scanned the approving audience, nodding to them with a slight movement of his head.
Two figures stood ahead of them.
Deputy Commissioner Ashton glared at Sam, her arms crossed and a look of disgust across her face.
Commissioner Stout, however, was joining in with the applause. Singh brought Sam to a stop and he stood, back straight, shoulders steady.
Like a soldier.
‘Thank you, Sam,’ Stout said with a smile. ‘You saved a lot of people tonight.’
‘Not all of them, sir.’ Sam’s words hung heavy with sadness. ‘He was my friend and I failed him.’
‘You did everything you could.’ Stout reassured him, leaning over and opening the backseat of the nearest car. ‘And I will do likewise.’
Sam managed a smile.
‘Thank you, sir.’
Singh helped Sam into the back of the car and then closed the door. As she turned to the driver’s door, Ashton pushed it shut.
‘I assume you have an explanation for all of this?’ Ashton snapped. ‘Otherwise, I’ll have you arrested right now.’
‘Deputy Commissioner, stand down,’ Stout commanded, much to her chagrin. ‘Singh, take Sam back to HQ. I’ll be along shortly.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Singh replied, looking Ashton dead in the eye as she did. She slipped into the seat, slammed the door, and turned the key. With the blue lights flashing, she turned the car towards the watching crowd and they parted like the Red Sea. Carefully navigating her way through, she couldn’t hide the smile as they applauded.
‘Looks like you have yourself a fan club.’
Singh smirked, shooting a glance at the rear-view mirror. But Sam didn’t respond. Looking off into the distance, Sam was too busy mourning a fallen comrade to even register the adulation.
As the car disappeared down Euston Road, Ashton stared at the appreciative crowd with disillusionment. Sam Pope was a convicted criminal, a man who had killed numerous people. Yet he’d just commanded
