There Is Still a Future


(Missing scene from "Man Without A Past")

"You dumb crud! What took you so long?" Doyle is gasping with pain.

"You look terrible." Bodie looks a bit ruffled himself, after his encounter with Braddock's goons.

Doyle motions to the door "Crabbe and Forrest. They `re down in the car park."

When Bodie doesn't move he adds, "Well, go on! I can't, I'm gonna call meself an ambulance!"

Bodie just smirks and leaves.

Doyle sinks to his knees in the kitchen, that last blow to his kidneys was the final straw.

The living room and therefore the phone seem miles away. Carefully he shuffles on his knees out of the kitchen. The two goons are luckily still out for the count.

The living room is a mess, after Arthur's get together with Braddock and his goons. A large bloodstain next to the coffee table is the evidence of a probably fatal ending for Arthur Brian Pendle.

Somehow Doyle can't find it in himself to feel sorry for him, the mad sadistic bastard, if it weren't for Crabbe, he wouldn't be shuffling here.

He finally finds the phone between the rubble and dials the number, after ordering an ambulance, his eyes notice the little box on the floor.

"Oh God, the bomb!" he had forgotten all about it.

Staggering to his feet, he stumbles to it.

It had been set for twenty-five minutes, time enough for Crabbe, Forrest and Pendle to grab their things and get out.

Leaving Ray Doyle to catch the brunt of the explosion!

He doesn't have his RT, he can't alert Bodie. He has to do it all by himself.

Carefully looking at it from all sides, he tries to assess the situation. His hands and arms are still trembling from the amount of time they were tied.

Hardly steady hands to dismantle a bomb.

Very carefully, he pushes the lid open with one finger. Two wires. One black, one white.

Does he still have his Swiss Army knife? Did they take it from his pocket?

Tight jeans are fine, if nothing hurts. But having to extract something from his pocket with trembling arms, cracked or even broken ribs and maybe damaged kidneys, it seems like the hardest thing in the world to accomplish.

He doesn't have time to fumble, just a few more minutes. Lying flat on his back he finally manages to get the damned thing out.

Flipping it open, he chooses the scissors, all the while telling himself to calm down, to stop trembling. His muscles don't co-operate.

He lowers himself on his stomach, which hurts like hell, but at least he can steady his arms on the floor.

Very carefully he separates the wires. Which one? Crabbe would go for black as the dangerous one, unless he believes in confusing everyone, then it would be white.

Nah, Crabbe wouldn't think himself in circles, would he?

Sweat is dripping in his eyes. He would have to decide now; there is no more time.

Black or white? Come on Doyle. Which one?

He finally snips the white one and watches with bated breath.

The ticking stops, Crabbe always fancied himself a clever man.

It was the white wire.

Lowering his head to the floor, Doyle starts to tremble all over. He can't seem to stop.

Behind him he hears stumbling as people enter the flat.

`This way, he is in here." Bodie's voice, probably directing the ambulance crew in the right direction.

"Ray? Ray are you okay?" Bodie's voice worried now. "What are you doing on the floor sunshine? What's that?"

He is turned over very carefully and looks into Bodie's face, white with fear.

"A bomb Doyle? Forgot to mention it, did you?"

"Forgot all about it, sorry." he mutters. His head is spinning and the tension is starting to take over, trembling he reaches for Bodie's hand.

Bodie grabs it and holds it tight. Sweaty curls are carefully ruffled and a soft voice whispers, "I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner, I'll make it up to you, I promise."

Briefly he feels lips on his forehead, before he passes out.

They have a future after all.

-- THE END --

April 2005

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