Note: Lyric wheel story to a song provided by Jay. The lyrics are at the end. Sorry to say I don't think I did it justice. I had this epilogue on the brain and couldn't divert my muses to work on anything else until it was finished. Still, the situation and the lyrics sort of mesh (I hope). Happy reading! Originally posted to the Pros Fanfic List.-- Mackie

Walking Wounded
(Epilogue to "Operation Susie")
by Linda S. Maclaren

Although activity teemed around them, the three men might well have been alone, removed not just from the swirl of activity but also from each other.

Bodie thought it odd that he was the one in the middle. It wasn't just his physical location midway between his partner and the Controller of CI5, George Cowley. He also had something that was unusually rare for him: insight into what the other two must have been thinking and feeling.

There was no point in talking to Doyle. Not yet. The man radiated anger so intense it was an invisible barrier surrounding him and cutting him off from any attempt at communication. A moment later, when the stillness had apparently become more than he could bear, Doyle turned and started walking quickly away from them through the old rail yard. There wasn't anything in that direction, neither bus line nor taxi queue, but that didn't seem important. Getting away before something irrevocable was said or done; Bodie knew that was the reason his partner had stalked off.

He looked at Cowley, whose expression was carefully neutral. It was a facade, Bodie knew, because both sorrow and anger shrouded the Old Man's pale blue eyes. Cowley had gambled with enormous stakes...and lost. The dead girl in the disused railway car was the price of his failure, a mistake that would not soon be forgotten by anyone closely involved in the operation.

Bodie walked over to Cowley's car. On the bonnet were two ID's, two R/T's, and the other miscellany they'd abandoned when implementing "Operation Susie." It had been a last-ditch, desperate effort by Cowley to save the girl's life.

He pocketed his stuff, hesitated a moment before picking up his partner's, then palmed the car keys that were left. Someone had thoughtfully driven the Capri to the scene from where the CI5 operatives had abandoned it. Their orders had dictated they go into deep hiding as part of their efforts to keep the young woman safe.

Once again, he looked at Cowley, but the Controller was looking away now, watching the body of Diana Molner being lifted from the carriage. As if sensing the eyes on him, he turned to look at Bodie.

Bodie wanted to say something, but the right words wouldn't emerge through the jumble of his thoughts. Instead, all he managed was, "She thought she was saving us."

Perhaps there was unintentional accusation in his tone, because Cowley's mouth tightened briefly before he looked away again, his reply left unspoken.

Bodie didn't want to watch the girl's body put into the ambulance, so he walked to the Capri and slid behind the wheel.

Doyle was a quarter-mile off by then, his long strides carrying him blindly away from the scene.

Starting the engine, Bodie shifted the motor into gear and stomped angrily on the accelerator. The power car lunged forward, spewing dust and gravel as the tyres spun on the dirt.

He slowed as he approached his partner, then coasted past and stopped a few yards ahead. In the driving mirror, he saw Doyle's steps hesitate, then start forward again. He reached across and opened the passenger door.

Doyle stopped beside the car. Apparently reassured by Bodie's silence, he finally slid onto the passenger seat and closed the door with enough force to shake the car frame.

Still without speaking, Bodie put the Capri in gear and drove away from the rail yard.

He wanted a drink. In fact, it was one of the few times he felt he needed a drink, something to dull the edge of his feelings of...feelings of....

He just wanted something to help him relax after what had been an incredibly long and shitty day.

But he knew he couldn't take Doyle to a pub, not in his present state. Doyle was in the mood to hit something, and pity any hapless bloke who wandered into his sights. Besides, the pubs would be filling up now with people heading home after a day of honorable toil. Normal people, people who didn't have to wonder if they'd made a horrible blunder that resulted in the death of a young girl....

Bodie sighed. He was supposed to be the pragmatic one. Win or lose. Win some, lose some, and any one you walked away from was a victory of sorts. Well, they'd walked away from this one. Just.

Doyle, on the other hand, believed in all those complicated ethical issues like right and wrong, good and evil, guilt and innocence. Too much emotional baggage. Too much to think about on long, dark, silent nights. Bodie firmly believed that too much thinking led to feelings of guilt.

With an abruptness that was almost savage, Bodie swerved off the road, braking hard enough to make the back end of the Capri fishtail. The shock absorbers groaned under the punishment, but the car finally rocked to a halt.

Bodie realized his hands were trembling, and he clutched the steering wheel to make them stop. With jaws clenched so that speaking actually hurt, he grated, "Sometimes I could cheerfully strangle the old bastard."

Doyle slanted a look at him, his moss-green eyes still hard as agate but now showing an awareness beyond his own inner rage. In a voice so soft and mild it had to be the result of rigid control, he asked, "Did he say anything?"

Bodie shook his head sharply. "Someone else told me Cowley arrested some backroom bigwig for treason."

"Treason?" This time, Doyle sounded interested. "Well, we knew it was political...but treason?" He grimaced, closing his eyes tightly and leaning his head back. It might have been a reflection of his intense emotions, perhaps a tension headache, or most probably a combination of both.

Bodie felt like grimacing himself. They'd gone too long without proper sleep or food. Hours spent on the road had been broken by occasional takeaway burgers or meat pasties, the remains of which he was certain still congealed somewhere in the pit of his stomach.

"Only one other person knows we're here." Doyle had spoken the words confidently, feeling assured that the three of them were safe in the disused rail carriage.

"He makes people trust him." Almost the very last words Diana Molner had spoken.

They'd both meant Cowley. And yet a crack assault team had found them, and Diana Molner was dead.

The anger and betrayal Doyle felt were almost palpable. At that moment, he must have felt as if he were watching his entire world float to the dark side of the moon.

Bodie chose his words carefully. For one thing, he didn't want to make excuses for Cowley. For another, he was also unsure of his facts. He'd picked up bits and pieces from the crew who'd come to clean up the mess left from the assault, but he didn't know which was fact and which rumor. "I think Cowley risked the whole organization to try and save her. He was caught in some pretty heavy political manoeuvrings. He needed us to buy time until he could pull it off."

Doyle opened his eyes and stared blindly at the headliner of the roof. "We didn't do a very good job of it."

Bodie sighed heavily. "Ray, she stood up and made herself a target."

Doyle rolled his head sideways enough to glare at him. "To save us. That's why she did it."

"I know." Again, he proceeded cautiously. They were approaching his own demons now, and he wasn't sure he wanted to go there. "Whatever her motives, she did it because she'd already given up. Ten more seconds, and Cowley would've won. It would've been over."

Doyle's expressive mouth curled in a sneer. "This from the man who was eager to do a Butch and Sundance?"

Bodie's jaws tightened. He looked through the windscreen refusing to meet his partner's accusing eyes.

His own words came back to mock him. Christ, he'd come so close to losing it. Had he acted on his impulses, they'd all be dead...dead just a few seconds before Cowley nailed the bastard he was after and got the dogs called off.

He finally looked at Doyle. "That's my point. It would have been a useless gesture." One he would have made if his partner hadn't stopped him, an idea he'd maybe planted in Diana's mind....

Doyle straightened up, his expression bitter. "I want to know what it was all about. I want to know why she had to die." He thumped his knee in frustration. "I want to know why Cowley was ready to throw it all away for some Central American drug runner."

"I don't know." Bodie was angry as well. After all, it didn't take a genius to read beyond Doyle's words: why had Cowley been ready to throw them away for some Central American drug runner?

Doyle looked at him, eyes hard with determination. "Tomorrow. He'll tell me the whole story tomorrow, or it's finished."

The knot in Bodie's stomach tightened further, but he nodded in agreement. They'd come this far together, and they'd face Cowley together. He wasn't keen on the idea of quitting CI5, but it wouldn't be the same anyway without Ray beside him, so what did it matter? "He's never been exactly forthcoming with reasons in the past."

Doyle's mouth tightened. "You think it's a useless gesture?"

Calmly, Bodie shook his head. "I think the old man hates to lose, and losing this time caused a young woman to die. Maybe he'll feel a need to unburden himself." Then his mouth quirked in a tiny smile. He gestured toward the glove box. "If you're gonna confront the Old Man, you'll need what's in there."

Reluctantly, Doyle opened the compartment and stared for a long moment at its contents. Finally, with a sigh that sounded almost resigned to the inevitable, he reached inside and removed his ID and R/T. "Doesn't change anything."

Bodie's smile widened. His partner's explosive anger had been defused. He could handle the sulk.

"What?" The single word sounded accusing. "You're not gonna sit there and tell me this whole mess hasn't gotten to you."

Bodie shoved his demon back into the shadows where it belonged. I really don't mind what happens now and then. As long as you'll be my friend in the end. "You win some, you lose some. We're alive to talk about it, and that's what's important. Let Cowley worry about the balance sheet."

Doyle shook his head in disbelief. "A regular Superman, that's what you think you are."

Bodie put on his most innocent expression. "Yeah, got the watch and all, don't I?"

Doyle's sharp laugh was involuntary and quickly quelled. "All you need is a cape, Bodie."

"Tried one, but it hid my gorgeous arse from the admiring gazes of the ladies."

This time, the laugh came more easily. "All right, you've made your point." Doyle slouched more comfortably in the passenger seat. "I don't suppose we could find a quiet pub at this hour?"

Bodie put the car in gear and headed toward town. "My place. The booze is good, the shower's hot, and I think you left some kit there the last time Cowley ran us off our legs."

"Your place?"

Doyle sounded faintly doubtful, but Bodie still felt it wasn't a good idea to take his partner to a pub, even if he was able think of one that wouldn't be packed at this hour. "We probably stink like a couple of over-worked stevedores. No pub would want us. Besides, if I haven't lost track of the date, there's a good football match on the telly tonight."

There was no point in disputing the obvious. "Your place it is."

Bodie smiled to himself as he finally turned out of the old industrial park onto a major street. They were going to be okay. Doyle would brood, but that was just his nature. He'd get over it. As for himself, he wasn't ready to examine the motives that had almost led him to charge senselessly to an early death. His partner had stopped him, put him back on solid ground again just as he'd always done. Right now, that was all that mattered.

THE END

Kryptonite
by 3 Doors Down
I took a walk around the world to ease my troubled mind,
I left my body lying somewhere in the sands of time.
I watched the world float to the dark side of the moon.
I feel there's nothing I can do. Yeah.
I watched the world float to the dark side of the moon.
After all I knew it had to be something to do with you.
I really don't mind what happens now and then.
As long as you'll be my friend at the end.
Chorus
If I go crazy then will you still be my Superman.
If I'm alive and well, will you be there holding my hand.
I'll keep you by my side with my superhuman might.
Kryptonite
You called me strong, you called me weak,
But still your secrets I will keep.
You took for granted all the times
I never let you down.
You stumbled in and bumped your head,
If not for me then you'd be dead.
I picked you up, put you back on solid ground.
Chorus (repeat)