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'Look, Nath, you gotta let it go, yeah? By this point she's pretty much just working her way around the armed forces.' Josh said, a touch of pleading entering his voice. It was the fifth time Nathan had started pining for his ex that morning and it wasn't even 9AM.

Nathan glowered, his miserable gaze fastened on the bustling high street. He couldn't bring himself to admit that his girlfriend had lost interest in him - again, and was once more in bed with someone else.

'I give it another month before she gets bored and comes crawling back. Wouldn't be the first time.' Josh continued, making a dismissive gesture with one hand.

'Gina says Tracy and What'sisface are getting married next week.' Nathan said bitterly. 'Didn't even have the decency to tell me I'm dumped this time.'

'Gina says a lot of things.' Josh grunted whilst simultaneously thinking That was quick, 'Gob of Gollona, that one.' He paused and added, 'Anyway, why are you so surprised? You should know by now she likes to keep her bed warm with more than just one body. She'll do the same to him eventually.'

Nathan stayed silent. Josh sighed and tugged at the door handle. He looked out of the side window and checked the wing mirror before swinging it open fully. It was time for breakfast and one of Jack's pre-mixed take-away coffees would hit the spot nicely.

'Fancy a brew?' He asked over his shoulder.

'I'll go get it. S'my turn to pay.' Nathan replied patting his colleague on the shoulder.

Josh pulled his feet back into the car and closed the door. He wasn't about to argue with the man who was going to buy him his breakfast coffee.

'Usual?'

'Sounds good.' Josh leaned across the seat and tugged at Nathan's uniform before he could disappear into the crowd, 'And no making any unnecessary phone calls while you're in there, yeah?'

Nathan flashed him a toothy grin, apparently over his ex already, 'I would never do such a thing. The Super'd have my hide if she caught me.' He slammed the door shut and Josh watched his striped tail vanish into the monday morning mob of shoppers.

A few minutes later a familiar face burst from the shop Nathan had gone into, looking panicked. He was tall, reed thin and his scales were a dull blue, almost sickly. Josh leaned forward, his nose almost touching the windscreen as Nathan hurtled out of the shop after the other lizard, his expression determined. There was a brief tussle, Nathan took an elbow to the nose and the other lizard was forced to the ground in a tangle of limbs.

'Fucking Callum...' Josh muttered in exasperation as he slammed the car door behind him and stomped up the pavement. 'Alright folks, stand back!' Their audience shuffled away from the two men on the ground as they struggled. 'You alright, there, Nath?'

'Peachy-'

'I ain't done nothin'!' Callum screamed. And then, almost as an afterthought as Nathan pulled his wrists together at his back, added 'Police brutality! Police brutality! I'll 'ave ya for this!'

'Shut it or I'll give you police brutality.' Nathan hissed in his ear. Blood streamed down his nose and dripped from his pointed chin, staining his white shirt with scarlet flecks.

Josh squatted next the squirming lizard and patted him down. Callum yelled again as his pockets were rifled through and objects were pulled free. A firm lump in his left cargo hip pocket turned out to be a box of aspirin. Another lump in his left jacket pocket was a small bottle of vodka. He checked his right pockets and found another box of aspirin and a sealed pouch of matches. All four still had their security tags and the tags had been tampered with so as not to set off the alarms.

'Well now, where'd these come from?'

'Bought 'em.'

'He's a lying little thief!' Snapped Jack from the doorway of his shop, 'Threatened one of my customers with a knife too, the little shit!'

'Again?' Nathan tsked, 'Where's the knife, Cal?'

'Probably chucked it away like he did the last one.'

'And the one before that.'

'Did it end up down a drain again?' Josh asked as he helped Nathan haul Callum to his feet.

Callum sneered at him as Nathan cuffed him, rattled off his rights. Josh cocked his head slightly as his radio crackled then cleared into a familiar voice.

'All units, all units: There is a Type - Four theft in progress in southern Tarrington. All available Tarrington units are to respond immediately-'

Josh and Nathan exchanged looks. Type-4. Theft of a heavy/specialist vehicle.

'Shit.' Nathan muttered.

They looked at Callum, looked at the crowd, the fuming shopkeep and then back at Callum. Nathan called it in and handed Callum off to Jack with a stern warning.

'No thieving.' Nathan said to Callum, then to the old iguana, 'And no adding to his bruises. Someone'll come and get him at some point.'

Jack nodded once, a mischievous gleam in his eye as he held onto Callum by his handcuffs, watching as the two police officers hurried back to their car. Josh slid back behind the wheel and turned the keys, glancing one last time at Jack and Callum. The car purred into life and he smiled, looking around, checking his mirrors. It was good to finally have a car that was so responsive and not half-dead from over-use and lack of repairs. He pulled back out onto the road, turning the lights and siren on as Nathan spoke to Dispatch, getting the exact location of the theft.

'- north-bound, coming out of King's Stockade. Be advised.'

'Be advised about what?' Nathan demanded. His mind raced. King's Stockade... 'Oh. Oh no.

'Ye gods, I hope it's just an APC,' Josh said as he blasted the horn at a stubborn 4x4 until it moved.

'That's not our kind of luck.' Nathan said as he checked himself over. All he had on him was a spare set of cuffs, a small canister of mace, a tazer and a telescopic baton. His stab vest wasn't much better. He had been stabbed more times than he had fingers and toes, and that was just in the last year. The vest, as far as he was concerned, was useless. 'We're screwed either way.' He said aloud.

Josh didn't disagree. King's Stockade was the glorified holding pen of enemy vehicles that had been captured intact. He had seen one or two scarred and holed Ferroni half-tracks being hauled through the gates on the back of flat-bed lorries and a missile truck of Ferroni style, painted in Gollona's urban camouflage drive out over the last few months. It was a place where captured light armour went to be inspected, repurposed and reassigned to fight its makers. Josh's knuckles were pale on the steering wheel as he guided them down a side street, trying to remember what exactly King's Stockade supposedly held. They bounced back onto the main road with a jarring thump as they dropped off the tall curb and swerved manically into the flow of traffic.

'MP's should be taking care of this, not us. King's Stockade's their turf-' He swerved around a lorry, clipping the curb. The steering wheel was almost pulled from his death grip as they rebounded. 'If they're north-bound, they could be heading to the mausoleum.' He continued, voicing his thoughts.

'Why?' Nathan asked, seizing the handle above his door as they raced down the middle of the road. Their car just barely squeezed between a lorry and a van waiting at the traffic lights. A car heading into town on a green light almost took their rear bumper off as they cruised through the intersection. There was an angry blast of horn as the police car hurtled down the road.

'There's an ammo dump there. Buried underneath the mausoleum. Didn't you know?'

'No. I thought it was a rumour.' Nathan's lips pressed into a thin line as he thought about this. Anything taken into the Stockade was bare of ammunition, he knew that much. They were all armed, but remained seperated from their ammo until the vehicles were given the all-clear. He scratched his head as he thought. On a map, the mausoleum was dead oppsite King's Stockade, on the other side of town. It sat in the middle of the cemetary that sprawled for a mile in either direction along the edges of the outer housing estates, a grand, gothic monument to the dead.

'Can we go any faster?' He asked.

Josh's hard gaze flicked to the dashboard then refocussed on the road ahead.

'No. Not without killing ourselves and some others, anyway.'

He threw the car around the corner, tyres screaming, leaving trails of black in their wake. Around them, people were running in terror and other road users were mounting the pavements, smashing through bins and hitting lamp posts.

'I think we're close.' Josh mumbled as he slowed, watching a family abandon their car in the middle of the road. They ran into a shop, disappearing into the back.

'Half-track, y'think?' Nathan asked softly as they prowled slowly down the quietening street.

'Never seen this kind of fear associated with one before. Missile truck, maybe?'

'S'a lorry with a missile launcher on the back. Unless you're five miles away, it's not really much of a threat, weapons-wise.' Nathan replied as he scanned the road ahead.

Josh silenced the siren and rolled down his window a fraction and listened. Nathan cocked his head as he too, listened intently. Over the screams they could hear the growl of a heavy diesel engine and the tell-tale squeaking of metal on metal. The sound of stone falling had the two sitting still in the middle of the now abandoned street, their breath heavy, their hearts racing. Josh suddenly looked hunted as Nathan froze.

'Can't be.' Nathan murmured as a cloud of debris and stone grey dust rolled across the junction ahead of them.

'Be advised.' Josh parroted miserably through grit teeth. And then, more angrily, 'Be fucking advised!'

The tank rumbled around the corner, clipping the corner of the newsagents at the end of the road. The shop sagged as bricks were pushed free and were crushed under the weight of the tank. The glass in the windows shattered and the window display tumbled out onto the pavement to be crushed under the weight of the black-painted war machine. It paused, its main gun swinging slowly from one side to the other as if watching the fleeing people with mild interest.

It was like watching a bored cat trying to decide which mouse it wanted to play with next.

Nathan spoke into the radio, his eyes never leaving the tank. 'Dispatch, this is Car Thirteen. We have eyes on the Type-four theft, over.'

'Copy that Car Thirteen. Confirm identity of the Type-four, please.'

'Type eighty- eight Korlochek Main Battle Tank. All armarments appear to be intact.' Nathan replied blandly with a sinking feeling. Dispatch went quiet. 'Dispatch, where're the Stockade's guards?' We're not equipped for this...

More silence. The Korlochek's engine grumbled louder as it started rolling forward again. Josh's grip tightened further and he grit his teeth. 'Fucking tank. Why not a missile truck? Something managable...'

'Come in Dispatch- What're you doing?'

'I don't know.' Josh said bleakly as he put the car into gear. His toe pressed gently down on the accelerator, bringing the car out of its purring idle. He felt it tug against the brakes as he found the balance between throttle and clutch He stared hard at the tank. He'd played chicken with many other vehicles before - cars, mopeds, bicycles and motorbikes, vans and the ocassional lorry. But a tank was a first for him. It would be his last, too as tanks generally had the right of way. There was no possibility of winning a game of chicken with something that could drive over you like you weren't there.

'Orders are to quarantine the vehicle and arrest the thieves.' Dispatch finally said.

'And how are we supposed to do that, then? Subdue them with a tazer? Smack the tank across the nose with a baton? _Pepper spray their range finder?! How?! _' Nathan shouted into the radio.

Josh slammed the car into reverse as the tank's nose reared up, tracks chewing away the road surface as it accelerated after them with a roar. Their car's engine whined in protest as Josh reversed back up the road, eyes wide with terror as the Korlochek closed the distance in a matter of seconds, the heavy, chain-laden nose looming over their car's bonnet. Josh tugged the steering wheel as he abused the brakes, spinning the car around and forcing it into first gear and up through to fifth, wincing as the engine screamed in protest. He glanced in the rearview mirror. The tank was still was on their tail, slamming into hastily abandoned cars and vans. Pedestrians in the next street over were sent running, screaming as the two barreled across the crossroads and onto the next block.

Other road users swerved onto the pavement as Nathan reached across to switch the siren back on. The undulating wail was almost drowned out by the clattering roar of the Korlochek chasing them down.

'Any ideas?'

'None.' Josh admitted through grit teeth. 'You?'

'Nope.' He stifled an inappropriate laugh when he looked in his side mirror. All he saw was 72 tonnes of black armour and churning tracks biting at their rear bumper. We're going to die!

'How much diesel does a Kor hold?' Josh asked as he threw them around a corner. The tank followed, its turret spinning smoothly to track them even as it lost traction on the shattered tarmac and slid around the corner after them.

Nathan twisted in his seat and looked out the back window. The tank bounced over a parked car. Its windows burst and a woman had barely made it out; she lay on the pavement, her legs crushed below the knee. He grimaced. Josh slammed the heel of his hand into the horn and slammed through a pair of cars sitting at a traffic light. The front corners of their car buckled and the headlights shattered, but there was no resistance on the steering or acceleration.

The occupants of the damaged vehicles started to hurl insults after them until they heard the tank. They ran for cover as the Korlochek bounced over the van and car, and smashed through the rear of the box trailer of a lorry as it passed through the junction.

'I don't know, do I?' Nathan complained as he watched the tank roar after them. He turned back around and swore when he realised the direction they were headed. 'Why're you going towards the mausoleum? I'd've thought that'd be a very bad idea considering,'

'It is. But I figure, if they want ammo, then they have to get out of the tank to get it and load it up.'

Nathan went quiet. His grip tightened on the overhead handle as they sped away from the high street and into the inner-suburbs. The mausoleum was ten miles further up the main road, practically a straight-run with only two roundabouts in the way: a single, large roundabout and the much loathed quadrupal mini-roundabout.

'We can do this...' Josh muttered under his breath as the high street started giving way to the more residential areas of the Tarrington.

Nathan looked around, searching their surroundings. He couldn't see any signs of other police cars. No flashing lights, no sirens, no white and black cars with the reflective strips, no uniforms on foot or bike...

'Where are they?' He picked up the radio, 'Car Thirteen to Dispatch, where the fuck are the other units?'

'More units are on the way Car Thirteen.' The pleasant voice replied.

Nathan's grip tightened on the radio' mike as a lamp post was launched over the car roof. It bounced off the road infront of them, smashed into their windscreen and slid off to one side, clattering into the gutter. People were coming out of their houses to gawp at the spectactle of the local coppers being chased down by a foreign tank, some taking pictures, others simply staring, mouths open as the two roared past.

'Speed bumps.' Josh said blankly.

'Wha-'

They bounced over a narrow speed bump and swore. The suspension groaned as they landed and the exhaust rattled and sparked on the road.

'How fast-'

Another speed bump sent them skyward briefly. Something snapped and the exhaust started to drag with a hollow, rasping noise.

'Sixty-five-' Josh grunted, fighting the steering when they landed again, 'Can't outrun the tank. It might decide to go elsewhere.'

Nathan wracked his brain for the top speed of the Ferroni Type-88 Korlochek MBT.

'They can top sixty-two. On rough terrain.' Nathan moaned, 'They're playing with us, Josh! They're fucking around with us like a cat with a mouse!'

'I had thought about that.' Josh muttered. He glanced in the wing mirror and saw chunks of concrete speed bump scattering from the tank's heavy treads. It wasn't even going over them. It was going through them. They hit the final speed bump in the road and they winced as something else beneath them snapped with a hard, dull pang. The front driver's side sagged and Josh swore as he heard the tyre start rubbing against the inner wheel arch.

'Roundabout.' Nathan warned. He squeezed his eyes shut as Josh pressed the accelerator into the floorboards, his expression turning grim. The first one was huge; five junctions surrounding a steep mound of earth and ornamental shrubbery turning the once messy junction into something more navigable (and more chaotic).

They hurtled out into the traffic flow, causing more chaos in the morning traffic. Cars scattered and swerved, smashing into one another or mounting curbs. Fingers were thrown up at the cops in their wake and then the two of them found themselves suddenly alone as the tank mounted the grassy island and cruised over it as if it wasn't there, passing them by in a rooster tail of loose soil and torn flowers.

'Fuck me.' Nathan sighed, 'They're gonna beat us to it.'

Josh let out a ream of curses. He'd have to overtake them and get back in front. They had caused enough trouble thus far, but Josh and Nathan had been acting as a kind of pathfinder, clearing the way as best they could for the war machine. Now they had lost that position and the two of them didn't need a seer to tell them how many more people would get hurt - or worse, if they couldn't get ahead of the Korlochek again. As they came around the roundabout, they saw the tank roll over a van as if it was nothing more than a paper cup.

'See anyone get out?' Josh asked.

'No.' Came the bleak reply.

They tried not to look at the crushed van as they passed, but Nathan couldn't help but catch a glimpse of a shard of bone and a splash of blood on the blown-out window. Josh sped up and forced the car onto the curb, clipping a lamp post as they chased the tank into the first housing estate, a sprawl of flats on tiny plots of land that were fenced in by worn-out brick walls and overgrown hedges. A wheely bin bounced off their shunt-bar and they clipped another lamp post. Nathan's wing mirror clattered off down the road behind them and his side window cracked, but still the police car doggedly gained speed. Someone threw themselves over a low hedge, their shopping bags scattering in their wake as the two vehicles jostled for position on the road. There wasn't any space for two cars to drive side-by-side: The tank was taking up the whole road and so they were forced to stick to the pavement.

'If we die, I just want you to know: I think your dad's a prick.' Josh said as the Korlochek pressed them against a brick wall in a shower of sparks and brick dust.

Nathan leaned away from his door as it started bowing inwards, his eyes wide with fear as the glass cracked and the black armoured skirt of the tank closed in on them. Josh swore and stamped on the brakes, their car skidding to a near-halt.

'Kevin's going to kill us for this.' Nathan said as he surveyed the damage, trying to get his shaking under control.

The bonnet was wrinkled, the windscreen smashed and hanging loose at one corner. They also had two missing wing mirrors, broken suspension and the car was at least 2 inches narrower than it had been that morning. Kevin, their head mechanic, was going go nuclear. They had ruined the newest car in the fleet in less than twenty minutes.

They dropped off the curb and swerved across the road behind the tank. Part of their exhaust finally tore free and bounced away when they mounted the opposite curb, settling in someone's driveway. The turret spun, the main gun sweeping as low as possible, tearing through the top of a tall border hedge and removed the light bar from the roof as the car squeezed past.

'Mini-roundabout-' Nathan croaked sickly. He could barely see out of the windscreen. Josh was hunched over the steering wheel, squinting angrily through the cobweb of cracks, desperately trying to ignore just how close they were to being crushed.

The four mini-roundabouts were exactly that: A quartet of tiny, twenty-inch tall domes of concrete. Each one was four metres in diameter and every new driver's worst nightmare. The set-up was a pointless exercise in traffic management and caused more problems than solved. Josh hammered the horn, trying to get everyone's attention. One or two people took notice, did a double-take and then bailed, peeling out of the traffic flow as they saw the tank bearing down on the battered police car. Others were either slow to react or simply didn't take any notice until it was too late.

The car cut through the middle of the small traffic islands, the tank smashing through and going over anything in its path in their wake. Josh and Nathan winced as they heard metal crash into metal and the shattering of glass behind them. Nathan glanced over his shoulder. The thick, black glacis plate was almost on top of them. He felt sick.

'Almost there-' Josh grunted.

Up ahead, the housing estates gave way to the broad strip of tarmac that cut across the end of the junction. Horseshoe Road, the dual carriageway that hugged the town's perimeter in a semi-circle. On the otherside of Horseshoe Road was the cemetary, a sprawling mass of graves and tombs dug into the side of a lush, green hill. Atop the hill, sitting proud like an elaborate two-storey mansion was the mausoleum in all of its ageing, gothic glory.

'Now what?'

'I have no idea.' Josh admitted as they raced towards the junction. 'I've just been making this up as I go along... Hang on!'

They plowed across the road and smashed through the cemetary's ornate wrought iron gates, the tank hot on their heels. Josh swore under his breath as the impact nearly forced them off the road and into a stand of headstones. The car, beaten and dripping fluids, wheezed up the hill, exhaust burping and chugging thick, grey smoke.

Nathan took stock of their surroundings, frantically scanning what he could see of the area for any signs of reinforcements.

'Nothin' but graves and grass...' He checked over his shoulder again and regretted doing so: The rear window was a wall of black metal. They're fucking with us... 'We need to get off the road.'

Josh's eyes flickered as he checked the rearview mirror. The car jerked, metal screaming as the Korlochek pressed down on them.

'Bail out! Now!' Josh shouted, kicking his door open.

Nathan tried forcing his door to open, but it was jammed solid, the metal of the frame jagged and warped. Instead, he braced himself on his hands and lifted his backside off the seat as he kicked frantically at the listless windscreen. Josh kept one foot on the accelerator, waiting for Nathan to bail first, glancing in terror at the tank as it slowly, purposely crawled up their rear. If the car lost anymore speed, they were dead. The tank was chewing its way up the boot lid, the glass in the back window cracking until it shattered, scattering glittering fragments across the back seat and parcel shelf. With a shout, the windscreen folded outwards and Nathan crawled out onto the bonnet, hurling himself to one side, tucking and rolling away into a patch of flowers as he landed.

Josh took a steadying breath as the tank roared behind him, a deafening bellow of diesel fury that jerked the car, tugging it backwards with a shriek of metal and a twin pop of tyres. Josh threw himself away from the car, scrabbling madly for the relative safety of a squat tomb that sagged at the edge of the road. He risked a look from his hiding place in the nook of the tomb's iron doorway as the police car was churned beneath the weight of the Korlochek in a roar of heavy engine and one final, sad wail of siren.

He watched the tank thunder up the road, towards the mausoleum. Then he looked back at the car, laying in the middle of the road, almost crushed flat in an expanding pool of fluids and scattering of glass shards, its body half-flayed. A strange feeling akin to loss hollowed him out and he sat staring at the wreckage, numb.

'Josh!'

He looked up and saw Nathan staggering to his feet, his expression pale and drawn as he looked at the car. Josh pushed himself to his feet and jogged over to the car's remains, rummaging around in a jagged opening that had once been the driver's side window, a rush of steely resolve flooding his heart. He managed to get his arm in up to the elbow and his fingers brushed against something cold and metal and reassuringly familiar.

'You okay?' He asked as he wriggled his prize free.

'I am. You?' Nathan panted. He looked up the road. The tank had grunted to a halt outside the large double-doors of the mausoleum and waited, as if it was thinking something over. 'We gonna snag 'em when they get out of the tank?'

'Absolutely. And I'm thinking we might need a little bit of that police brutality that Callum's so fond of.' He heaved, jerking his arm free and brandished a crowbar. 'And I'm thinking Lyle's favourite tool will come in handy.' He looked Nathan dead in the eye, his expression dark, 'You ever broken into a tank, Nath?'

'First time for everything.' He responded. He checked his tazer was still seated properly in its holster and then pulled his baton out, flicking it to full length. 'Ready?'

Josh gave a curt nod and the two ran up the road, coming up behind the tank as its engine started to rev again. The Korlochek rolled forward, the main gun forward and pointed as low as it could go. The two cops swarmed up the sides of the tank, climbing onto the hull and pulling themselves up the turret as the muzzle was pressed against the huge iron banded doors of the mausoleum. Wood started to splinter as Josh worked one end of his crowbar into the seam between turret roof and the commander's hatch. He wriggled the end of it about, seeking the catch, spending precious minutes they didn't have to force it to open.

The heavy mausoleum doors tore open and beyond them lay the long, marble tiled promenade of the building's interior. A caretaker at the far end looked up from tending one of the vaults, the lizard's mouth dropping open as he watched the tank carefully nose its way inside. The hatch clicked and Josh heaved it open with a snarl.

'Get your hands off the controls! NOW!' Nathan shouted into the cramped space. A bewildered face stared up at him from the gunner's seat, his hands still gripping the turret's controls. 'I said-'

The tank jerked forward and masonry started to crumble around its flanks as the engine roared. Nathan, un-balanced, landed on his rear, sliding down the sloping armour of the turret and sprawled awkwardly across the hull. Josh fired his tazer into the turret and hauled the groaning gunner out, passing him off to Nathan who dragged him off the tank with a litany of curses. Josh dropped into the turret and the driver twisted in his seat, a snarl on his face. He snarled at Josh in broken Ferroni, giving him pause. The man was wearing Gollonan fatigues and spoke with a strong Gollonan accent and what he was saying wasn't matching up with the scene playing out.

When does it ever?

'I'll kill them all! Traitors, every last one of them!' The driver snarled, 'They can't carry on like this! They'll be found out-'

Josh raised his hands placatingly, seeing as the tank had stopped moving forward.

'Who? Who d'you mean?' He asked, trying a different approach to the one he had had in mind a few seconds ago. 'Who're the traitors and what've they done?'

'Kidnapping children and brain washing them! Don't you know?!' The other man hissed conspiratorially. 'Prisoners of war. Babies an' kids taken in by Gollonan families, brain washed and set to murder their own countrymen without knowing it!' He paused, panting heavily and cocked his head as he eyeballed Josh, looking at the crowbar he held in his right hand. His left rested on the small can of mace at his hip. The man's expression twisted and he jabbed an accusing finger at josh, 'You're in on it! I can smell the blood on your hands traitor!' He twisted in his seat, pulling a combat knife from under his arm.

Josh hissed in pain as the serrated edge bit into his scales and sliced deep to the bone of his forearm. He dropped his crowbar as the pain flared into agony up his arm. The tank jerked forward again as the man returned his attention to the controls and forced the Korlochek deeper into the mausoleum.

'Need to get ammo...' He muttered under his breath, 'Need to kill the real enemy-' He slumped across the controls, unconscious. Josh wrapped his arms around the man's shoulders and pulled him awkwardly into the turret before slithering into the driver's seat and fiddling with the controls until the Korlocheck fell silent.

'Fuck me, I need a drink.' Josh mumbled as he pulled himself back into the turret.

Nathan appeared at the hatch and together they lifted the unconscious lizard out of the tank and cuffed him. Nathan had bound the other man's ankles together with thick cable ties and he was leaning drunkenly against the wall, glaring daggers at the two cops as they gave his friend the same treatment. Josh explained to Nathan what the driver had said and Nathan scratched at his aching nose, picking away the crusted blood.

'You think he got it into his head that those rumours're true?' Nathan mused.

'Most likely. We're in what? Year seventy-three-ish of this damned war? I wouldn't be surprised at all. Appalled, yes. Surprised? No. You've met our higher-ups. They'd taze a baby if it got them a promotion and a one-way ticket out of this country.' Josh replied flatly as he pulled a small spool of medical gauze from his pouch and started wrapping up his wound.

'Hang on, you hear that?' Nathan held up his hand and cocked his head, listening.

Josh swallowed his next comment and tried to hear what Nathan was hearing. There, on the edge of hearing was the sound of sirens.

'You boys reet?' The caretaker asked nervously as he gently closed the side door behind him. He cast a fretful look at the two make-shift Tankers who were cuffed and sitting in a heap against the wall, silently fuming.

'Aye, we're fine.' Nathan replied. 'You?'

The caretaker nodded and shuffled to one side, his gaze switching from the two dishevelled coppers to their mangled car. Beyond that, at the foot of the hill, the first of their backup arrived, turning carefully onto the cemetary road and driving leisurely up the hill, lights flashing, siren silent. Down below, in the streets they had raced through, police cars and APCs hammered through the streets towards them. The first car to appear braked to a halt behind what was left of their own and a pair of freshly turned-out police officers climbed out and looked at the chaotic tableau; one flat police car, a Ferroni MBT wedged firmly in the main door of the mausoleum and the two coppers glowering at them.

'No, s'alright. Take your time. We have everything under control.' Josh opined blandly as he tied the gauze off.

Nathan bristled beside him, 'We were advised.'

'Sorry about that, lads. We got a little caught up with the last job.'

'Chasing little girls across the playground again, Danvers?' Josh retorted, eyeridges raised in mock surprise. 'What'd they do this time? Skirts too short? Blouses not buttoned up properly? Being indecent were they?'

It was Danvers's turn to bristle and he jabbed a thick finger at Josh and Nathan. His partner broke up the argument before it could start, 'Now, now, we'll be having none of that. We picked up your mate Callum and took him in.' He glanced at the crushed car and then at the tank, 'That was fifteen minutes ago. Plenty of time for you two idiots to wreck a perfectly good car. Again. Kev's gonna go ballistic when he finds out.'

Josh checked his watch. 'No way did it take you twenty minutes to dump Callum at the nick and catch up with us. That was a five minute job at most.'

'Had to fill out the paperwork-'

'Bollocks!' Nathan spat, 'You know full well you can skip that part if there's a Type-Two call-out or higher on the cards.' He turned his anger on the Lieutenant that had just hopped out of the lead APC, 'And where the fuck were you lot? How in the Hell did you let a tank of all things get nicked from under you nose? Eh? Sleeping on the job?'

The skink looked outraged at the accusation and his sergeant sidled up to him with a pair of troopers in tow, their AM70s held in the crooks of their arms.

'Now then PC...' The Lieutenant began, fishing for a name.

Nathan wagged a finger at him, 'Don't you fucken dare try to write this one off as one of your little incidents. People died today because you twats were sat on your hands and let a pair of psychos get a way with a tank!' He stabbed a finger at the crushed car, 'See that? We managed to escape before it got flattened. Other people weren't so lucky, though. What're you going to say about that?'

'Probably the usual,' Josh called from further down the line of parked vehicles as he waited for a police woman to finish dressing his wound properly. 'It was a tragedy, our condolences to the bereaved, etcetera, etcetera...' He mocked.

Nathan closed the distance between him and the Lieutenant, 'And that you're working on figuring out how it happened and tightening your security? Like you did last time?' He hissed quietly. The skink glowered at him, their noses inches apart. The skin between Nathan's shoulders itched. One of the troopers had circled around and was now pointing his rifle at his back. 'Since you took over King's Stockade, you've done nothing but add to our workload. And we're already up to our eyeballs in work.' He jabbed his finger into the skink's chest, 'We're at war. Have been since before either of us hatched. So get your shit together or I'll solve the problem myself by burning your precious little stockade down, right?'

'PC Higgins, I should arrest you for that display of insubordination.' Danvers scolded.

Nathan looked the Lieutenant up and down with disgust, 'He ain't my superior, so no, you can't.' He turned and walked away with a dismissive wave at the tank and the car, 'We've dealt with the meat of it. You can have the left overs.'

Josh and Nathan walked down the hill, exhausted, aching and wanting nothing more than a hot meal and the kind of sleep brought on by copious amounts of hard liquor. Behind them, every cop in Tarrington and the bulk of the King's Stockade forces argued over who should deal with what.