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Gene floored it round the corner.
They’d been planning for this blag for a week, tipped off by one of Gene’s snouts. A week’s hard graft. Strategising and coming up with contingencies for their contingencies–mostly to keep Tyler happy. Now here he was cocking the whole thing up single handedly.
He should’ve expected it. Sam had been acting strange for weeks. Always looking over his shoulder, paranoid about something he wouldn’t tell Gene about. He hadn’t been sleeping, either, and getting reckless because of it. Half of Gene’s time recently was spent watching Tyler’s back while he blundered in head-first. He thought this blag was a turning point. A return to Tyler’s meticulous ways.
Yet, as soon as the thieves ran out of the jewellery shop, Tyler was on their tail. The plan was to hang back until they knew which way the thieves were planning on fleeing then pen them in. Instead, Tyler made himself known too soon, spooked the thieves, and set off a manic car chase through busy city streets.
Gene had already run three cars onto the pavement in his haste to get to Tyler’s station. They’d placed themselves in opposite directions, that way a senior officer would be close by to make the arrest. Now he regretted ever letting Tyler out of his sight.
“Turning up Bradford Road, Guv.”
Ten different people talked over the radio simultaneously, trying to organise themselves to block all potential escape routes. Even through the chaos, Gene only had ears for Sam. And each of Sam’s directions addressed directly to him.
The little game didn’t do anything for the roiling in Gene’s gut. This was what it had all been building to. All those weeks of Sam Tyler oddness, coming to a head here and now. Whatever it was, Gene wanted to be there with him. To have his back one last time, right when it really mattered.
“Gleden Street, Guv.”
Gene wasn’t far behind now, swinging into Bradford on two wheels.
“Offroad, Guv.”
He could hear their tearing wheels up ahead, see the tyre tracks through the grassy verge.
“Shit, Guv, we’re–!”
“Tyler?” It was the first time Gene had spoken since Tyler took off in chase. “Tyler!”
Just in time, Gene slammed on the brakes. The nose of the Cortina skidded to a stop over the canal, front wheels teetering right on the edge. To the right, the thieves’ van kicked up dirt along the tow path. Not that Gene had an ounce of care for them anymore.
Not with Sam’s car nose down in the murky water.
Gene flung his door open, damn near tripping into the water himself he was that close to it. He couldn’t see Sam. Not on the far bank, not on the grassy verge, not in the water. All Gene could think about was that stupid jacket of his, how heavy it would be under all that water. He shrugged off his coat, tie too, ready to jump in and drag Tyler out of there.
“Sam!” he shouted, voice ripping from his throat with an intensity he’d never known it could have. No reply. Just the creak and groan of bending metal, and the rippling slosh of water as it sucked the car under.
Another engine revved up behind. Chris and Annie scrambled out of a patrol car, twin expressions of fear on their faces.
“Is that the boss?” Chris gulped.
Only Gene couldn’t reply. Not with Annie there, looking at him with that expression. Begging him to give an answer that would only ever be a lie. His silence was answer enough. All the remaining colour drained from Annie’s face and tears flooded her eyes instantly.
“What do we do?” Chris asked, also taking off his jumper and tugging at shoelaces like he might jump in there too. “Guv, what do we do!”
Heart still hammered enough to send his head all fuzzy, Gene joined Chris kicking his shoes off. “We get him out. Cartwright stay up here, we’ll need someone to pull us up.”
Her nod was the last thing he saw before jumping into the depths. Chris at his side. The freezing temperature chased the air from his lungs, but as he kicked out he forced a deep breath in again. Reaching the driver-side door, Gene wasted no time diving below the surface and fumbling at the handle.
He found it and tugged, feeling the thing pop open. The inwards rush of water shifted the car, rocking it back and out of Gene’s grip. He surfaced again, gasping a lungful of air before dipping back down. Chris was there, fingers curled round the door and heaving it open. Gene joined him, fighting against the weight of the water to pull it open.
Sam must have hit his head going in, a nasty gash over his eyebrow turning the water red. Gene leant in and popped the seatbelt Sam always insisted on wearing, then he and Chris manhandled Sam out through the open door and up to the surface.
Gene’s chest ached for air, Chris gasping and kicking frantically as sodden clothes threatened to drag them under again. Between them, they got Tyler’s head above the water. That stupid jacket splayed out around him like a dark halo.
“Quick!” Annie cried, leaning as far over the canal as she could without falling, arms outstretched and beckoning.
From the water, the climb out again looked a damn sight higher than from the bank. Tyler floating between them, they swam over to the edge. Some bobbies had turned up, all reaching down just like Cartwright to grab whatever of Sam that they could. Gene hated the way he looked as they dragged him up, all limp and lifeless.
Annie disappeared with him, the bobbies hanging back to help Chris climb out first, then Gene.
By the time he hit dry land, a crowd gathered around Sam. Gene pushed his way to the front where Annie was pressing down on his chest, blowing air into his mouth. He looked so small, skin halfway blue from the cold.
Then his eyes flung open and he sucked in a deep breath that turned to wracking coughs. Annie helped him sit up, rubbing his back gently as water dripped down his chin. Shivering, Chris came forward with Gene’s coat, and though his fingers were numb Gene draped it over Sam’s shoulders.
“Cheers, Guv,” Sam muttered, hugging it close.
Gene just patted his shoulder, shaking at the thought of how close they’d come to losing him. The cold was a good cover.