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Leicester Square
Pierce slowly blew out the smoke from his cigarette. He’d been leaning against this tree waiting for what seemed like ages, though it hadn’t been more than fifteen minutes.
They had arrived at Leicester Square – he, Hagen and Owens – some twenty minutes ago, and immediately Hagen had requested that he message Boskovic. Pierce had, understandably, been reluctant, but given the circumstances, with Marshall spotted in the area and likely looking for the Bosnian, it was a hell of a lot safer for him to be in their custody than risk an incident in the streets, especially in such a busy area.
Bosko had responded readily enough, and indicated he would be at the park in fifteen minutes. It was possible that he’d merely been delayed by crowds, or had to take a piss, or something... but Pierce couldn’t shake the niggling feeling something was wrong, and if it wasn’t already wrong, it was about to go wrong.
Then he saw him, and he had to admit he flinched. It had been...such a long time... and Pierce hoped neither the approaching Boskovic, nor Hagen and Owens still watching from the car, had seen the flinch. Pierce couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. Owens probably caught it...
“I was beginning to think you would never contact me,” Boskovic began several yards before he reached Pierce. He was smiling when he spoke, though, softening the reprimand with an expression of warmth that pained Pierce, it was so genuine. “Shall we go for a drink? Talk about old times?”
“Bosko...,” Pierce began, his lips pursed as he looked at the brawny Bosnian. He was a bit over-dressed for Bosko... the suit , and leather top coat, and such... since the man usually opted for more casual, utilitarian clothing... jeans, hooded sweatshirts, and the like... a wardrobe to blend in, even disappear, when needed. Pierce cleared his throat and stepped closer, hoping that his old friend would listen to what he was saying and not yield to the knee-jerk reaction it was bound to cause. “Bosko... I need you to come with me.”
Boskovic’s expression changed rapidly, and his smile disappeared, replaced by a deep frown. “Come with you? Come with you where?”
Pierce swallowed. “To the Met.”
“You... You’re arresting me? For what?”
“No, no, no...” Pierce hurried to assure him. “You are not under arrest, I am not arresting you. But...” Pierce stopped, the expression on Boskovic’s face forcing him to turn around and see what had put the fear of God into this bear-like man’s face. As soon as he started to turn, though, he knew exactly what would be waiting for him when he looked around.
Marshall.
The look on the injured police officer’s face was lethal, and a glance to his hand told Pierce that, potentially, so was his weapon... a TASER. Marshall was completely focused on Boskovic, but to Bosko’s credit he was thinking fast. As weapons go it was one of the least harmful they could be confronted with, and Bosko had already stepped back well out of the weapon’s reach, and was continuing to inch toward a tree nearby. Pierce knew he was likely planning to use it if necessary as a shield if Marshall decided to use the taser on him. Pierce noticed some movement out of the corner of his eye... Hagen and Owens getting out of the car... and he knew now was the time to try and diffuse the situation.
“Marshall,” Pierce began. “Marshall, you need to stand down.”
Marshall’s eyes shifted to Pierce briefly. “What? And watch you let him get away with all of this. Josh and Robbie are dead... I’ll feel the effects of this my whole life... And it’s his fault.” He pointed the taser at Boskovic, who stopped moving backwards for a moment as he instinctively raised his hands and arms to cover his chest. Pierce tried not to smile, only because he knew Marshall wouldn’t understand it. The Balkans had been... horrific... and for someone like Rado Boskovic, being tased... well, he’d endured worse.
“I was not responsible for any of that. You know that.” Boskovic looked to Pierce, the plea in his eyes softening the frown above them. “You know... I would never have done that to Josh. You know that.”
Pierce nodded slowly, and turned back to Marshall. “Mate, this is not the way to do this. Put the weapon down... Mister Boskovic is going to come with me.” Pierce glanced briefly at the Bosnian, who hesitated before he nodded assent. Perhaps he trusted Pierce, but Pierce felt it was more likely he was weighing his options and decided that to go with Pierce was the path least likely to result in physical harm.
Everything happened quickly then. Marshall yelled, fumbling with the taser which decided at that time to malfunction or something. Boskovic took the cue and broke into a run, backtracking his path into Leicester Square and heading back toward Piccadilly Circus. Marshall took off running after him, with Pierce a few steps behind.
Pierce could hear yelling behind him, likely Hagen, but he knew his superintendent well enough to know that the older detective was already on the line calling for backup, maybe even Armed Response, all while he followed them in his car.
He could see the lights of the Trocadero up ahead, and whispered a silent prayer that they could end this chase positively before too many people got involved.