At the sensation of a hand falling on her shoulder, Lucie jumped, nearly losing her grip on the sonic screwdriver.
"You're nicked," a familiar, perky voice said.
Lucie swung round. "Karen?"
"You have the right to remain silent," Karen said. "And unless you've got anything nice to say, that's what you'd just better do."
"Give over! No way are you in the police."
"You'd better believe it. Look, got the hat and everything."
"Could be a costume."
"Could be, but it isn't," Karen said brightly. She pulled a copper-tipped rod from her belt. "First sign of trouble from you and you won't know what's hit you. Hold out your hands."
"No chuffing way..." Lucie began, but broke off as Karen aimed the rod at her, and the sensation of pins and needles washed over her.
"This is level one," Karen said. "It goes up to eight. Now hold out your hands, lardarse."
Reluctantly, Lucie did as she was told. Karen took possession of the sonic, then clamped a pair of official-looking handcuffs round Lucie's wrists.
"Still don't think this is a real uniform?" she said. "Right, you unsavoury character, you're coming down the station with me."
"I haven't done anything!" Lucie protested.
"Carrying burgling tools, loitering suspiciously, and wearing a tacky skirt in a built-up area." Karen waved the rod menacingly. "Get moving."
"Still don't see how you got to be in the police," Lucie said, as Karen frog-marched her out of the alleyway. "Should've thought someone'd've picked up on you."
"Picked up on what?"
"On you being an evil cow who gets off on torturing people — ow!" Lucie nearly lost her footing as electric discomfort shot through her. "See, that's exactly what I was talking about."
"That's reasonable force," Karen said. "'Cos I know there's no other way you'd do what you're told."
"Just you wait till I get me hands on you."
"It'll have to wait, sorry. Police business comes first." Karen brought Lucie to a halt. "Right, in here."
"This isn't a police station," Lucie said, looking at the decrepit terraced house, its windows boarded and graffitied.
"Temporary forward base. Get a move on, we haven't got all day."
The interior of the house was just as dilapidated as the outside. The front door led straight into a nearly empty room with stained plaster walls and bare floorboards. Dustsheets covered what might have been chairs and tables.
"Right," Karen said. "Here we are." She pulled the cover off what proved to be a sofa, upholstered in ratty black leather. "Sit down."
By way of emphasis, she shoved Lucie forward onto the sofa.
Karen Coltraine &/ Lucie Miller - arrest (1/2)
At the sensation of a hand falling on her shoulder, Lucie jumped, nearly losing her grip on the sonic screwdriver.
"You're nicked," a familiar, perky voice said.
Lucie swung round. "Karen?"
"You have the right to remain silent," Karen said. "And unless you've got anything nice to say, that's what you'd just better do."
"Give over! No way are you in the police."
"You'd better believe it. Look, got the hat and everything."
"Could be a costume."
"Could be, but it isn't," Karen said brightly. She pulled a copper-tipped rod from her belt. "First sign of trouble from you and you won't know what's hit you. Hold out your hands."
"No chuffing way..." Lucie began, but broke off as Karen aimed the rod at her, and the sensation of pins and needles washed over her.
"This is level one," Karen said. "It goes up to eight. Now hold out your hands, lardarse."
Reluctantly, Lucie did as she was told. Karen took possession of the sonic, then clamped a pair of official-looking handcuffs round Lucie's wrists.
"Still don't think this is a real uniform?" she said. "Right, you unsavoury character, you're coming down the station with me."
"I haven't done anything!" Lucie protested.
"Carrying burgling tools, loitering suspiciously, and wearing a tacky skirt in a built-up area." Karen waved the rod menacingly. "Get moving."
"Still don't see how you got to be in the police," Lucie said, as Karen frog-marched her out of the alleyway. "Should've thought someone'd've picked up on you."
"Picked up on what?"
"On you being an evil cow who gets off on torturing people — ow!" Lucie nearly lost her footing as electric discomfort shot through her. "See, that's exactly what I was talking about."
"That's reasonable force," Karen said. "'Cos I know there's no other way you'd do what you're told."
"Just you wait till I get me hands on you."
"It'll have to wait, sorry. Police business comes first." Karen brought Lucie to a halt. "Right, in here."
"This isn't a police station," Lucie said, looking at the decrepit terraced house, its windows boarded and graffitied.
"Temporary forward base. Get a move on, we haven't got all day."
The interior of the house was just as dilapidated as the outside. The front door led straight into a nearly empty room with stained plaster walls and bare floorboards. Dustsheets covered what might have been chairs and tables.
"Right," Karen said. "Here we are." She pulled the cover off what proved to be a sofa, upholstered in ratty black leather. "Sit down."
By way of emphasis, she shoved Lucie forward onto the sofa.
"Now what?" Lucie said, looking up at her.