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a holiday whenever we visited there.
    “Put your weapon down and your hands on your head,” the Sarge repeated loudly to Red. “Last warning.”
    “Make me, cocksucker,” he retorted. Although he sounded as self-confident as ever, I detected a slight change in his voice.
    “Sarge, he’s on the move! He’s probably heading for the driver’s door of his car,” I shouted.
    We couldn’t let him escape. I stood and ran to the patrol car to pull my bulletproofs from the boot, fastening the vest and slapping on the helmet. I would have given anything to have my gun with me, but it was safely secured at home. I never took it with me running, relying on my trusty knife for protection instead. I slammed the door, locked up and jogged back to the action, sheltering at the edge of the fence, poking my head around. I couldn’t see Red anywhere.
    In a further sign that nature had turned against us, the heavens opened and it bucketed down with rain, so hard that our visibility was reduced to nothing.
    “Sarge?” I yelled out.
    “Tess? I’m heading your way,” he yelled back through the downpour. “Where are you? I can’t see a thing in this rain.”
    “Over here near the fence.”
    “Sing or something so I can find you.”
    Groaning to myself, I loudly and self-consciously sang a catchy little pop song that was currently on high rotation on the local radio station. He made his way towards me following my voice, stopping only when he ran smack bang into the wooden fence, cursing loudly. He felt tentatively along that fence and then along the blockwork fence until his hand landed on my arm.
    He pushed me up against the fence and moved over to stand directly in front of me, pressing his body against mine, protectively covering it. He placed his hands on my shoulders and leaned down close to speak to me. The rain was pouring even heavier and it was the only way we could hear each other.
    “I’m going to have that song stuck in my head all day now,” he complained, his mouth up against my ear. “Are you okay, Tessie? Did he really hit you?”
    “He winged me in the arm, that’s all. I’m okay,” I replied into his ear. In fact I was a little woozy, surprised at just how much being winged hurt.
    “What are we going to do now?”
    “He’s going to make a run for it.”
    He disagreed. “He won’t try to drive in this rain. You can’t see anything.”
    I laughed in disbelief at his naivety. “Sarge! He’s not going to hang around waiting for us to arrest him. He’s going to piss off as soon as possible. He might be an evil bastard, but he’s never been stupid.”
    And as if to prove my point, the glow of tail lights moving through the curtain of rain caught our attention. The faint sound of Red’s revving engine cut through the thundering downpour.
    “Shit! He’s making a run for it,” said the Sarge, pulling me by the hand as we both bolted towards the patrol car, climbing in gratefully. Water poured off us – we were soaked to the skin.
    I sniffled and pulled a handful of tissues from the box I always kept in the car, used some to wipe my nose and the rest to mop my face, while he threw his helmet onto the back seat. I was freezing cold and switched the air conditioner to the warmest setting, turning it on full blast. He flicked the wipers to their fastest speed and turned on the high beam. Neither made much difference and we peered through the windscreen into the murkiness of the torrential rain.
    “Hold on tight,” he warned, activating the police lights, but not the siren in deference to the early hour, despite already waking up everyone in the whole town with it when he arrived. He planted his foot and screeched off after those tail lights.
    It was a reckless pursuit, considering the terrible weather. Had we called it in to Big Town, we would have been ordered to stop chasing because of the danger to other road users, to Red and to ourselves. But working with me and being in close contact with the