Troubled Terrace

Borough High Street - Southwark - London

Connected to the City of London via the London Bridge, Borough High Street is the main thoroughfare in Southwark. Declining light industry and factories in the area have given way to shops, restaurants and bars, causing it to become a thriving cosmopolitan area. It's become a major business center with several international corporations, professional practices and publishers.

Just off the main thoroughfare is the 17th century The George Inn which boasts both Shakespeare and Dickens as patrons. Not far off from that is the well-known Borough Market, the Old Operating Theatre museum, and Herb Garret, the oldest surviving operating theatre in Britain.

Other locations of note here are the London Bridge Underground station and the Southwark Cathedral.


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Leigh Will

There are nights when Leigh loves being a constable, and nights when she loathes it. Tonight is one of the latter nights. It's been a crazy, nonstop evening around the city. Most of the calls are minor things. Traffic accidents, domestics, a few B&E's. These are the normal things that she gets called in on. The 'quiet' things as she calls them.

Only, it's a Saturday evening, they're down by two officers (one's out with a Spring flu, the other was getting married earlier in the day), and that means she's pulled a double shift today. The call came just a few minutes ago. Some nutter in a stolen lorrie had directed the vehicle at several patrons of a local restaurant, crashing it through the terrace and into the alley.

The lorrie is still in the alley, the nutter is presumably there as well. No one's seen them come out the alley on either side. (Primarily because the driver ditched as soon as the vehicle careened toward the terrace.)

She's out of the car almost as soon as her partner stops it, gun at the ready as she heads down the alleyway.

Her partner isn't far behind, and a backup crew will be there soon to get witness statements. An ambulance is on the way for those injured by the lorrie, but Constable Levine's main concern is the nutter-driver.

There's a shout of "Levine, lookout!" seconds before she hears the gunshot. She quickly jerks her body to the side to avoid a chest wound, and winds up with the bullet colliding with her right arm.

It's a reactionary thing that has her cocking her own gun and sending a shot toward the dark figure near the lorrie as it turns to run.

"Kellock, you chase, I'll go report the bloody shot."

"Heh. Pun-y, Levine. Real pun-y." Then off he goes, chasing the perp through the alleyway.

She's going to call it in and if backup isn't there by the time she does, she'll head them off on the other side.


The full moon isn't until Tuesday. Will knows because he had to check on his iPhone several times with the craziness of the night. It's been non-stop for he and Jace since they came on shift. A grandmother down the stairs, a wife nearly beaten to a bloody pulp by her husband - who of course insisted he was innocent, even as the teenage son tried to attack him and the cops put him in cuffs - and a sixteen year old who thought it was a good idea to mix alcohol and narcotics for the ultimate high.

They had a moment to swing by a shoppe and grab takeaway and coffee before the radio band went on again, declaring that a bloody loony had run a lorrie into a terrace and a crowd of people.

The siren is wailing, and Jace drives like he's on a race track because he seems to think that it won't be a problem if the paramedics have to call for paramedics. They've been partnered together long enough that Will knows better than to say a word - that only encourages the loon - and instead, he braces himself against the door and tries unsuccessfully to take a few more swallows of the coffee.

"This is what it's all about, mate!" Jace practically crows as the ambulance rolls to a slow halt at the scene. "Keeps the adrenaline pumping."

"A little less of your speed thrills and a little more triage, Jace," Will is hopping out of the ambulance with his equipment and the chastisement is tossed over his shoulder.

Blue eyes scan the scene and he groans. "Jace? Call for backup."

It's going to be a long night.


Leigh spares just a moment for the crowd as she races back to the car.

"GSW to the right arm, Kellock's after the assailant on foot. Paramedics at scene, backup is…"

The screech of tires has her looking up from the vehicle.

"… here. Suspect is armed and quite obviously dangerous."

"Get your arm looked at Levine."

The voice from behind her has her immediately preparing to tell whomever it is that she can wait. Except that it happens to be coming from her boss. "But sir, Kellock…"

"Jones is on her way."

Grumpily she holsters her gun, having forgotten to do it when she raced to the vehicle, and starts for the ambulance. She'll get her arm looked at, but not before the injured parties are seen to. She can wait.


Will doesn't wait to see if Jace makes the call. Despite the other man's flippant attitude, he knows that when lives are on the line, Jace will follow through. Pausing briefly at the edge of the fray, Will looks around and quickly assesses the extent of the carnage, sizing up what needs to be done. Some bystanders are shell shocked, wandering; others are helping with or trying to help the wounded. A few constables, young and green, are moving through the chaos and maybe think that they're even trying to organize it all, but Will doubts it.

Will steps up to the nearest pair, "Mason with Royal Hospital. We need to get the wounded seen to in an orderly fashion. Get anyone not wounded away from here, they're in the way. Point me to the most grievously wounded and then someone can work with my partner to get this cluster fuck organized."

Though he looks put out by Will's abruptness, the constable nods to the other two who jog in a different direction and leads Will to where a middle-aged man is lying, gasping for breath and holding his chest. Will's demeanor instantly shifts to compassionate as he drops to his knees and pulls out the oxygen tank. He half listens to the constable explain that they got lucky - no one seems to be on death's door - but there are a number of serious injuries that will require transport to the hospital.

"Field triage it is then," Will murmurs and gets to work surveying the crowd again as he hears another ambulance approaching.


Noting the rookies trying to help and getting in the way, Leigh groans. Really, if she can't be out on the chase, she may as well make her way into the fray and start organizing things.

"Mason, right? Constable Levine." She doesn't interrupt the man beyond that, barking orders at her colleagues and setting them on 'statement' duty while she helps the less grievously wounded to chairs near where the paramedic she's just run into is working. Easier for him to find the wounded, and it keeps them out of the way of everyone else.


Will is grateful for the arrival of the constable who seems to actually have a grip on how to handle a crisis and trauma situation like this. It means that he'll save his commentary for wondering what they're teaching the rookies these days.

With her aid in rounding up and putting the other constables to work, it's much easier for Will and his fellow paramedics to operate. Most people are only in shock, or suffering from contussions and a broken bone here and there. There are a few who insist that they're bleeding internally, though they're clearly just desperate for some reassurance that one of the other paramedics following in Will's wake provides.

Even the lorrie driver is relatively uninjured, though the bleeding wound on his head looks a lot worse than it is. His pupils are reactionary, however, though he's muttering about fire and aliens.

Okay, maybe he did hit his head a bit hard.

Will does a cursory examination and as he helps the lorrie driver to shift position so that he can complete the exam, a pouch falls out of the man's pocket, spilling diamonds all over the ground. Before Will can even call for the constable, the lorrie driver has stumbled to his feet, pushed Will to the ground and is running.


With all the fray, and the mess of people on the terrace, Leigh would have never suspected that the shooter at the lorrie was anything other but the driver. Overhearing that there's a man with a massive head injury with bits of glass in his hair, she pops her head up from reassuring one of the injured that the paramedics will get to her soon, the statement stopping.


Levine's on her feet, yelling back at Will, "Don't touch that pouch! Evidence!" One of the rookie's moves in to start collecting it, but she's on the chase.

About twenty yards from the terrace, she tackles the lorrie driver to the ground. The good thing? She manages to cuff him. The bad thing? She jars her injured shoulder and lets out a long string of curses.

"How in the bloody fucking hell did you sneak past us?" She's guessing he tumbled out before the lorrie careened toward the alley.


Will wants nothing to do with the diamonds. He rolls to the side, and pushes himself to his feet as a constable descends on the evidence. Nothing is wounded but Will's pride, and seeing that everything is under control, he makes his way over to Constable Levine. With the man in cuffs, Will eyes him up and down, and then looks to Levine. "Could I clean up his wound before you haul him off? He's not going to be a lot of good if it gets infected." Beat. "And his pupils are reacting to light, which means he's probably not concussed, but he was saying some odd things, so it might be a good idea to get him to the hospital for a scan. Just in case, before you put him in lock down."

He watches the constable, waiting for her response and it's automatic really that his eyes track her body. Will is not checking her out, but rather making sure she didn't receive any superficial injuries when she tackled the perpetrator.

Blink. Will's gaze focuses on her shoulder.

"Is that blood, Constable?"


Leigh quirks a brow when Mason asks to clean the perp up. She snorts and gives her shoulders a shrug. "If he's not in immediate danger of dying, take care of the people he ran down first." Then she'll talk to the boss and see what he wants done with the man.

She pauses, looking over at the paramedic. Pretending to just notice her shoulder now, she quirks a smile. "I suppose it is. Got shot a while back." She's not playing tough. It hurts like hell, but running on adrenaline and knowing that the wound can't be that serious or she'd be on the ground, she's going to joke about it.

"I was going to ask you to look at it, but our friend here decided to run." The lorrie driver is given a slight nudge toward one of the ambulances, and another constable comes to get him checked out before they bring him in.


"It's under control," Will says, referring to the accident scene. He's not making it up. There are enough paramedics on the scene to handle him taking a look at her shoulder. He's not happy about the lorrie driver, but Will has worked with law enforcement before. He knows well how it goes, and really the man will live without treatment.

"GSW," Will mutters, kneeling on the seat beside Levine. "You constables. Come on, off with the jacket, then." She's running on adrenaline, yes, Will knows that. Which means that she doesn't know how badly she's hurt; she could have made it worse, or she could be bleeding out and just fall unconscious in the next heart beat. "If you can manage it. If not, I can help, or I'll get Peters over here and she can assist."

Levine is up and conscious for now, so Will won't make her uncomfortable. Modesty only goes out of the window in life and death situations.


"So I noticed," she remarks, setting her eye back to the scene.

The jacket is easily removed, shrugged off. There's a slight wince when it comes to the area of the wound, but Leigh is biting the inside of her cheek so as not to make such a big deal out of it. "I'm fine, Mason." She starts to roll the sleeve up, then pauses as she reconsiders. She's really not got anything to hide, but she also doesn't think actually removing the shirt will go over well with the boss.

Clearing her throat, she nods toward the arm. "May want to cut the shirt though. Rather not do a strip tease at the scene."

Kellock and Jones round the corner then, half dragging, half carrying the other suspect. Both constables are fine, but the man has a gunshot wound to the calf, a few pieces of glass embedded in his face, and what looks to be a dislocated shoulder from hopping the fence in the alleyway and falling to the ground in a bad way.

Leigh nods at her partner, and then watches as they bring the man to another waiting ambulance for a quick check before they toss him in the back of car.


"No you're not, Levine," Will returns easily. "You have a gun shot wound." Will's been on the job for years and he still hasn't decided whose worse to treat: doctors, firemen or constables.

With her strip tease comment, he can't help it. Will smirks. He likes her dry commentary. Reaching for the scissors to cut away the material around the wound, Will asks, "Don't want to add to the excitement of the night? Imagine the headlines. Jewel Heist Foiled, Local Constable Shares All."


"It's Leigh," she replies. "Imagine that, I do. Believe me if the bullet was lodged in there, I'd be screaming." Darting her eyes to the wound, she quickly ensures that the bullet isn't really lodged in there.

"I think we've had enough excitement for one night." Pause. "Though I do like that headline. Moonlighting as a journalist? It'd be a hell of a way to get to the stories first." Talk about breaking news.


No, the bullet is not lodged in there, lucky for the headstrong constable. "It looks like it was a clean exit," Will says, as he examines the wound without touching while pulling on a clean pair of gloves. Only then does he give warning, "Might hurt a little. I need to check it more than visually." The follow up touch, pressing around and checking the rear exit is as gentle as he can manage, but it's not really about being gentle.

"You're lucky. Nothing got nicked either, so you're not going to bleed out. Still, best get over to the hospital as soon as you can and get it stitched up." Beat, and Will pulls out a wad of bandage and presses it to the wound. "I can put a pressure bandage on it, catch the bleeding to hold you until then."

"Even if I was moonlighting, I couldn't tell you. That would be giving away my source and outing myself and then where would I be?"


"Ow," she says in an over exaggerated manner when he starts to prod the wound. It does hurt, but Leigh is keeping a stern look plastered to her face. Even though her color drops just a little with the examination.

"I sort've figured if I was going to bleed out, it would've happened by now," she says with a wink. "Does it honestly need stitching though?" She tilts and cocks her head so that she can peer at the wound and try to judge the seriousness of it.

"Hmm. True enough. Too bad though, I'd have given you a few good quotes."


Will notices the way the woman tenses and gives a small chuckle. He doesn't understand why people feel the need to act like it doesn't hurt. No one is going to fault them for being human and getting hurt. He dips his voice, "It's a'right. Your tough constable reputation is is safe with me." He begins taping the bandage in place. "Oh, and it's Will. That was rude of me." After all, she had given her name.

"I'd leave that the trauma doctor's call, but you are going to need antibiotics, so if that question was to avoid going to the hospital - don't."

Will looks up from his work briefly to glance around, gratified to see that the scene does seem to be under control. "Whole night been like this or is this just your lucky fluke?"


The dip of his voice and the comment cause Leigh to laugh. "Good to know," she whispers back at him before biting the inside of her cheek and making a pained expression. "Nice to meet'cha, Will. You've got a steady hand." It's an odd comment, but telling. This isn't the first time she's been bandaged.

The pained expression melts into one of annoyance. "It was. Hate the hospital." Pause. "Don't suppose… nah, never mind."

"Saturday. Close to the full moon. The bloody nutters are out." Pausing she reaches up with her uninjured arm and tries to push a stray strand of hair back into the bun. "This," she says, surveying the mess, "Is just my lucky fluke though."


There's a short burst of laughter from the blue-eyed paramedic. "I would suggest then, that you stop throwing yourself in front of bullets if you hate hospitals." Beat. "If you want to get in and out fast, ask for Dr Robinson. She's good, no nonsense, and if you tell her you just want to get back to work, as long as she doesn't see anything major, she'll comply."

Another beat.

"Don't tell her that I sent you, though. I'm not her favorite person right now."

Will concentrates on finishing the bandage and then steps back, pulling off the gloves. They're tossed into a disposable bio hazard bag which is tied off. "Hopefully this is the climax of excitement for both of us tonight."


"Really wasn't planning on getting shot," she shoots back at him with a grin. "Though rather me than someone else. I'll deal." Leigh rolls her injured shoulder backward a bit, just checking for mobility since she's decided not to hop the ambulance. They're needed for more serious injuries — not that a GSW isn't a serious injury, but she's also not got a broken leg or arm she's suffering through.

"Doc Robinson? Got it."

Taking her notepad out of her pocket, she writes down both her name and Kellock's. "That's my partner," she says pointing to Kellock's name. "He'll probably hitch a ride to the hospital with you and the perp. Good guy, but he'll be irritable if he finds out you sent me to the hospital." Pause. "So don't tell him."

Winking at Will, she jots down her number — or the number that she can be reached at in the station. "The thief says anything else odd, call."


"No infections on my shift, it's a personal rule," Will quips as he dutifully takes the paper and tucks it into his shirt pocket. "But, I've no mind to deal with a cranky constable either, so mum's the word." Wink. "I'll tell him that I lost you in the shuffle, and that it was flesh wound."

"Just take care of that, Leigh… and let's not meet like this again, yeah?"


Constable Levine laughs, though she bites her tongue to keep from saying something absolutely ridiculous at this point. Hopping down she grabs her jacket and slings it over her uninjured shoulder.

"Deal." Pausing, she gives him a rather appreciative look. "Can't say it was all bad though. See you around, Will Mason."


Instinct and reflex really, Will holds out a hand to steady her if she should need it, but she doesn't. The look earns her a slight cant of his head, the lift of a brow and the quirk of a smile. "I hope I'm that lucky, Constable." The words are delivered with another wink, and he grabs his equipment back. Smile broadening a bit, Will gives the woman a nod and turns to head toward the ambulance.

A few steps, and he turns back, patting his pocket. "I have your number."

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