In Alex's opinion, CID had never been quieter. Nothing could be heard but the faint sounds of Shaz's walkman, the rustle of Ray's magazines and the tapping of Chris' pen as he attempted to tap out the rhythm to a popular new song, failing miserably and earning a disgusted look from Ray. Alex sighed in frustration. They were all awaiting a phone call from one of their most informed scouts about a bomb that was due to go off anytime. Gene Hunt of course was pacing around his office, pissed off that he couldn't be doing anything sooner.
Alex sighed again. "So we're just going to sit here and wait?" she spoke at last. "When our informant could give us no time to get anywhere? We should be going through all our information…"
"Done that," Ray grunted. "Anyway, I'm busy. Reading. S'helping."
"I don't think reading about naked women is particularly helping this investigation, DS Carling," Alex said primly. "What we should be doing is –"
"Bolly, do you ever shut up?" Gene snapped, emerging from his office. "We – have – no – leads. Skyler said she'd phone when she's got the details of who is plannin' on blowin' my city to smithereens and where the bastard's plannin' to do it. Understood?"
Alex snorted. "And you trust Skyler? Guv, last week she fed us the wrong information about a robbery and we ended up staking out the wrong building all night – or has that slipped your memory?"
"Hardly," scoffed Gene, "you weren't the one trapped in a car with Raymondo for eight hours. That night in question is goin' ter remain a painful memory for years to come."
Ray started chuckling as he looked up from his magazine and Gene stalked back into his office. "I knew I shouldn't 'ave 'ad that chicken curry. 'Ey, you know why Ma'am's got a problem wi' Skyler, don't yer?" he laughed, nudging Chris who was grinning goofily.
"And why's that, Ray? Care to enlighten me?" Alex said sharply.
Ray smirked, reminding Alex of an infuriating child that just refused to be wrong. "No reason in particular…'cept the fact she's stunnin' wi' long blonde curls and a great pair-sonality…"
"And why would tarty Skyler May's looks be of any interest to me?"
"Cos you think the Guv's slippin' her one after –"
"Right thank you, Raymondo!" Gene shouted, slamming his door open again. "And when you've quite finished gossiping like a nancy poofter, you might want ter get yer arse in the Quattro!" Gene turned to Alex. "You too, Bolls. Skyler's called – Rothmore House, there's an 'uge party going on with your Pimm's-on-lawn-brigade. Group o' blokes known as Jackson's Army are settin' off a bomb in twenty minutes, protestin' about some shit to do with class. Tossers!"
"Well come on, let's go!" Alex gasped, scrambling to her feet with Chris and Ray following.
"Right behind you, Bolly!" Gene said, dashing after her with a perfect view of her arse. Not the time, Gene, he reminded himself, plenty o' time to look at Bolly's privately-educated arse after you've caught the bastards!
Gene, Alex, Ray and Chris parked the Quattro a street away from the elaborate Rothmore House and ducked behind it, giving them a perfect view of the house, the party-guests and hopefully, when they arrived, Jackson's Army.
"Armed Response are on their way, Guv," Chris informed Gene as they peered over the top of the Quattro.
"Right, when I give my say-so, we go in after the nonces. Until then, we stay 'ere and wait for their little Lordships to make their appearances. Don't want to alert people for no soddin' reason, especially seeing as that Lord Fancypants from the boat party's 'ere. Don't need no commotion. Got it? Keep yer eyes peeled."
Ray squeezed himself between Alex and Chris, fidgeting as he attempted to stash his magazine.
"Ow!" Alex squealed as Ray elbowed her in the breast.
"Sorry Ma'am," Ray smirked.
"Fo God's sake, you're on police duty, not at a library!"
"Will you two shut up?" Gene snapped. "God, give me strength!"
"Gene, he hurt me!"
"Well hurt him back, you don't think twice when it concerns me! And Raymondo, get yer act together and don't shove Bolls."
"I di'int shove 'er, I elbowed 'er in the tit."
"Exactly, that is a blatant attack on my femininity, just to push me further away from the group!"
"Look, who the 'ell do you think I am, yer primary school teacher? I may expect this type of twattish be'aviour from Christopher but he's the only one at the moment acting like a real police officer!" Chris grinned smugly, once again earning a disgusted look from Ray. Gene looked thunderous. "Now shut your traps and start lookin' for these bastard Jackson twats! Bolly, come round 'ere away from this idiot."
Alex glared at Ray and wriggled around to the other side of Gene. The DS really was pissing her off today, she thought as she kept her gaze firmly on Rothmore House. Ten minutes later, Armed Response were in position and there was no sign of Jackson's Army or any bomb attacks.
"Something tells me your precious little Skyler May has got it wrong again, Guv," Alex sneered.
"Shut it, Bolls, before my gun accidentally goes off in your direction. Skyler ain't got it wrong; the bastards are just bidin' their time," Gene insisted.
"I don't know what you see in her anyway," Alex muttered.
"Is this really the time?" Chris squeaked bravely.
"See in 'er? Can't be jealous can yer, DI Sluttyknickers? I'm 'ardly screwing 'er, anyway," Gene said, completely ignoring Chris.
"Wish you were though, don't you?" Alex sniped back, provoking Ray and Chris to raise their eyebrows at each other.
"Aren't we meant to be catchin' these bastards?" Chris spoke up again.
"I think any bloke they don't 'ave Skyler May on their minds is a bloody poofter, Bolls," Gene continued, "but she's certainly got your fancy French knickers in a twist. Only met the bird a couple o' times and you're acting like a right moody cow."
"I am not!" Alex protested, turning round to face Gene as Ray got his magazine out again. "I just think you could do better. She's barely thirty and a right tart."
"Bit like you then," Ray mumbled, luckily inaudible to DI Drake.
"Don't go off on one, Bollyknickers, cos she don't come close to the bird I 'ave my eye on, Bolly," Gene said bluntly, just meeting her eyes, "little blonde tart's nothin' compared to a certain sexy –"
"GUV!" It was Armed Response.
"Right talk to me, you tossers!" Gene shouted.
"Seven blokes round the back of Rothmore House about to enter the marquee. Balaclavas and bomb equipment by the looks of it! About a hundred guests there, Guv, we got the all clear to go in?"
"Go, go, go!" Gene yelled. "Bolly, Chris, Raymondo, let's move!"