Broadchurch: Blast From The Past

Chapter 12

TW: discussion of death, discussion of violence,  peril

"Almost there," Ellie muttered to herself. The pipe was almost severed, she was almost free. Soon, she'd be home.

A new voice sounded outside the room. "Mum?"

"What's up, Jackie?" Susan responded. She was stationed outside Ellie's cell door, having grown sick of arguing with the detective.

"I intercepted some radio chatter," Jacqueline Wright responded. "There's a police convoy headed this way."

"How far?"

"Twenty minutes out. You know they're coming here."

Ellie gave a sigh of relief. She wouldn't have to do this alone.

"Hmm," Susan hummed thoughtfully. "Stupid Nigel must've gone to the police. Boy's a coward, just like his father."

"Don't think we have time we run," Jacqueline told her. "'Specially with the lady cop in her knickers."

"You can leave if you want, this could get messy."

"No way. I won't lose you again. We go to prison, we go together. Something else happens...we do that together, too."

"All right, baby." There was smile in Susan's voice.

"I love you, Mum."

"Love you, too, Jackie."

The pipe gave way almost silently. Ellie braced herself. The next time the door opened, she would be ready. She could do it. She had to.

~~~

The convoy went silent at the Somerset city limits, turning off light, sirens, and radios. They glided into the car park as soundlessly as six cars and a ShitMobile could manage. Alec hopped out and signaled the other officers to get behind him as they approached the bomb shelter. It was locked, which they'd expected. Three separate people—including Alec—had a go at kicking or prying it open. No luck. The same happened with the battering ram.

"Don't make 'em like that anymore," someone whispered.

"Or there's a secondary lock on the inside." Alec glanced around. His eyes flicked from the ShitMobile to the door handle. "Anybody have a chain?"

"Got one in my trunk," said the plainclothes officer. "Want me to get it?"

"No, give me your keys. If anybody gets trouble for this, it's me." Alec took the keys and glanced at his team. "I'm well aware how stupid and illegal this is. Anybody wants to bail, you can."

No one did.

In short order, they had the chain hooked to the ShitMobile and the other end wound several times through the door handle. One of the patrol officers offered to drive, but Alec was the only one who could handle the old Land Rover. He had everyone take cover and floored it.

The doorknob could have torn off; the chain could have broken. Luck was with them, though: with an earsplitting shriek, the old door ripped right out of its frame. The indomitable ShitMobile had saved the day.

Alec hopped out with a smug smile. "You wouldn't get that kind of performance out of a modern car." He strode over to the gaping doorway. "Right, last chance to leave."

Nobody moved.

"All right," Alec said. "Body cameras on. Let's go."

All seven of them crept into the darkness with weapons at the ready. Torchlight revealed three separate hallways.

"You two, right," Alec whispered. "You two, middle. You two, left, with me. Be careful."

They split up as instructed.

Alec took the lead with his team, creeping ahead with his back to the wall. Frank was right: the bomb shelter was the size of a house. There were several rooms off the main corridor, which they cleared one by one before coming to yet another fork in the hallway. Alec motioned for his team to go left while he went right.

"What about you?" whispered the female officer.

"I've the most experience," Alec told her. "I'll be fine. You two watch each others' backs. Report in if you find her."

As the three went their own ways, the first report came over the radios: "21-50-Ocean,19-74-Alpha reporting: end of the hallway, all clear, over."

"Shit," Alec breathed. If he was wrong, and Ellie wasn't here, not only might he lose his partner, but he might lose his job. "50-21-Alpha reads you. Recheck all rooms, then meet up with Team B, over."

He moved forward, alone.