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“But you can’t disobey a direct order.” Josiah suddenly realised the invidious choice his husband faced. “They’ll have you for that.”

“I know. That’s why, if they order me to open fire, I want you to arrest me.”

“What?” Josiah stared at him uncomprehendingly.

“I want to be court-martialled. Elsie has her press contact – we’ll ask him to cover the trial and publicise what’s really going on. We’ll blow this whole thing wide open and provide a focus for rebellion.”

“They’ll send you to the Glasshouse,” Josiah said, sitting down on a chair with a thud. “I can’t be the one to put you there, Peter. You can’t ask me to do that.”

“I’d rather it was you, if possible – and I realise it might not work out that way.

Firstly, it gains us publicity – an army officer arrested by his own husband.

Secondly, I don’t want you implicated, Joe.

They might start sniffing around and find out what I was up to in Europe.

I don’t want you tainted by association.

If you arrest me, you’ll be showing them you don’t approve of my actions. It puts you in the clear.”

“I don’t care about that.”

“I know, but I do.” Peter knelt down in front of him and put his hands on Josiah’s knees. “We don’t gain anything if you’re locked up, too.”

Josiah gazed at him miserably. “Look, Peter, I’m happy to stand side by side with you on this. I couldn’t fire on the Quarters, either, if ordered, but I don’t want to be the person who arrests you for refusing to do it.”

“Sure, but there are other reasons why this makes sense. While I’m locked up, I’ll need someone I trust on the outside. They can’t stop my husband from visiting me – and you’ll be my link to Elsie. I need you to be whiter than white, Joe. That’s why you have to be the one who arrests me. ”

“You have a way of making something bloody awful sound reasonable,” Josiah said helplessly. “You’re a persuasive bastard, Peter Hunt.”

“You’re only just finding that out?” Elsie sighed. “We’ve all been there, Joe.”

“It’ll look like I betrayed you. It’ll feel like that, too.”

“No – you’ll just be doing your job,” Peter insisted. “Besides, who’ll look after Hattie if you’re arrested, too?”

Hattie, who was flopped out on the kitchen floor, raised an ear at the sound of her name and thumped her tail a couple of times.

“Will it work? Or will we be putting ourselves through a shitstorm for nothing?” Josiah demanded.

“I don’t know.” Peter shrugged. “We’re hoping that the publicity will show people what’s really going on, and they’ll rally to our cause.”

“And then what? We could end up with a situation like we saw in Europe, with the warlords and the scavs – no law and order, no real government…”

“Or this whole thing could make people understand how corrupt the IS system has become.”

“You’ll go to prison. Damn it, Peter – we just got to be happy,” Josiah said brokenly.

Peter put a hand on his shoulder. “I know, but this is who I am, Joe. You knew that when you married me.”

Josiah let out a long, shaky sigh. “Christ, I hate you.”

“Yeah.” Peter grinned and pressed a kiss to his lips. “And thank you.”

“I didn’t say yes.”

“Yeah – you did.” Peter stood up.

“What happens to the Kathleen Line while you’re in prison?”

“Elsie will take care of it.”

“With my help,” Josiah said firmly.

“I’d like that, love.” Elsie patted his arm.

“It’ll be a relief knowing Elsie has you to lean on while I’m in jail,” Peter agreed.

“Are you sure you’ll go to jail and not into the IS system, Peter?” Elsie asked. “It’d break my heart if you were sentenced to indentured servitude after all the work you’ve done to help indies. ”

“No, it’ll be the Glasshouse – military prison – for this. Refusing an order is a military crime, unlike helping indies escape,” Josiah explained.

“I can argue that in my estimation the order is unlawful,” Peter said. “I doubt the court will accept that, but it might provide mitigation.”

“Or none of this might work, and you might end up going to prison for years on end for nothing,” Josiah pointed out.

“It’s possible,” Peter agreed. “But I don’t see what else I can do. This is a matter of conscience, Joe.”

“God, I hate your bloody conscience; it’ll get you killed one day.”

“You’re always saying that, but I’m still here.” Peter ruffled his hair affectionately.

“What about the Quarterlands?” Josiah asked. “Someone will still open fire on them, even if it’s not you. The army has plenty of officers who won’t give a damn about firing on our own people.”

“We’ve sent a warning,” Elsie said. “We’re hoping we can get the rioters to back off, but I don’t think they’ll listen. People are too angry.”

“That’s all we can do, Joe,” Peter told him. “I can’t control this situation – I can only refuse to be part of it.”

Later, after Elsie left, Peter touched Josiah’s arm gently.

“I know you’re angry. Talk to me.”

“I am angry, but not for the reasons you think. I appreciate how brave you’re being – throwing away a career you love for the sake of your beliefs.

What I hate, Peter, what I really bloody well hate, is that you’ve been doing all this in secret.

You’ve been restructuring the Kathleen Line behind my back, and you cooked up this scheme with Elsie when you should have discussed it with me first. I’m your husband.

I want to share your life, but you keep shutting me out. ”

Peter gave him a look that reminded him of Hattie when she’d been caught raiding the bin. “You’re right. I thought I was protecting you and your shiny new career, but that’s no excuse. The truth is, I’ve been a lone wolf for too long; I’m not used to sharing this part of myself. I’m sorry.”

“So, from now on – no more secrets?” Josiah insisted.

“No more secrets – I promise.”

“Even if you think it’ll piss me off, or put me in danger?”

“Even then. Hmm, you’re turning me on with all this tough-guy talk, Joe.” Peter angled his head for a kiss.

Josiah couldn’t resist. Tangling his hands in Peter’s shirt, he pulled him forward and kissed him hard.

“So, what happened?” Alexander asked, his eyes wide, looking totally engrossed.

Josiah paused to finish his dinner. He’d given Alexander the edited highlights, omitting Elsie’s involvement and any mention of the Kathleen Line. He’d presented Peter as a man of principle, faced with carrying out an order he found morally repugnant, which was true.

“Did Peter receive the order to fire on the rioters? Did you arrest him?” Alexander pressed eagerly.

Josiah pushed back his plate and looked Alexander straight in the eye. “Yes – on both counts.”

The riots went on for several days. Peter worked the night shifts, when the rioting was worse. He came home every morning stinking of smoke, covered in dozens of little wounds from all the missiles being thrown at them, although thankfully nothing worse.

“It’s bad out there,” he said tiredly. “We’ve used riot drones, water cannon, all the usual stuff, but there are too many of them, and more all the time as word goes round.

We just put down one riot and another springs up.

The police are exhausted, and we’re running out of options as to how to contain the violence.

We’re just waiting for the order to start shooting now.

I don’t think it’ll be long in coming. ”

The following evening, Josiah had the chance to see the chaos for himself as the MPs were shipped in to provide backup, because the army was stretched to the limit.

He smelled the riots long before they reached them.

The acrid scent of smoke hung over everything, permeating his hair, his clothes, even his skin.

The entire horizon was one giant sheet of flames, engulfing houses, shops, and offices.

As they travelled closer, he could hear the screaming of the mob, see them lobbing missiles at the combined force of the army and police.

The fighting had spilled out of the Quarterlands and into nearby towns, spreading like wildfire.

The government had imposed a news blackout, but information was seeping out anyway.

Overhead, army helicopters whirred, collecting strategic intel.

It was chaos, but Josiah fought his way through the ranks to find Peter, his face black with grime.

“Joe – what the hell are you doing here?”

“We’ve been brought in to help. It’s all hands on deck,” Josiah explained. “Now – where do you want me, sir?”

Peter shot him a grateful smile – he knew, better than anyone, just how much use Josiah could be in a pitched battle. Soon, Josiah had taken command of a small unit and launched them headfirst in an attempt to drive the rioters back into the Quarterlands.

Josiah usually loved a fight, but he hated this one.

It felt wrong to be fighting their own people – his own people, all Quarterlanders, just like him.

He could tell the army was losing the fight.

They were well trained, with specialist equipment, but they weren’t a match for the sheer numbers of mainly young men, but some women too, pouring out of the Quarterlands, angry and spoiling for a fight.

This particular struggle had been a long time coming – years of pent-up anger at being the have-nots in a society that hated them had come to a head, and the mood was ugly.

Josiah could see which way this was going to go. The government couldn’t afford to lose control of the situation – this rebellion had to be put down, by any means necessary.

He fought his way back to Peter’s side. “We’re losing,” he growled.

“I know,” Peter replied grimly. “I’ve just had the order.” Josiah stared at him blankly, not wanting to take in the enormity of the situation.

“Joe – did you hear me? I’ve been ordered to open fire – to use deadly force.” His jaw tightened. “Those aren’t orders I’m prepared to carry out, Staff Sergeant Raine.”

Josiah stood there for a long moment.

“Joe?” Peter prompted. “It’s time. I’m surrendering myself to you.”

Josiah swallowed down the bile in his throat. “Very well, Captain Hunt.” He took the handcuffs off his belt. “I’m placing you under arrest.” He snapped the cuffs around Peter’s wrists with more force than he’d intended.

Peter winced. “A bit looser, Joe?” he asked. He had such big hands that the metal cuffs were digging into his flesh.

“No special treatment, Captain Hunt,” Josiah said stonily. He had to armour up, to find the strength to do this.

Josiah had never run away from a fight in his life, and it hurt to take Peter out of this one, to make him leave his unit and all his men behind.

He saw faces he knew, people he’d fought alongside for years, looking angry and upset as he marched Peter out of there.

He felt like the bad guy, and he wished he could explain it to them.

“This is what he wants. It’s all part of a bigger plan. It’s his bloody idea.” But all they saw was him arresting Peter and marching him away in handcuffs.

“It felt like a betrayal,” Josiah said to Alexander.

“Peter was trying to put a brave face on it, but I don’t think it hit him until that moment what he was giving up.

He’d been in the army for most of his adult life, and he loved it.

Now his career was in ruins, and he was facing a prison sentence.

I arrested him, as he’d asked me to, and took him in. ”

“What happened after that?” Alexander asked, clearly enthralled. “I don’t remember hearing about it on the news.”

“That’s because it all came to nothing,” Josiah replied wearily.

“They put the riots down in the most brutal way – it was a massacre – but that was hushed up. The press reported only that the army had contained the rioting with minimal casualties. People were so afraid of the breakdown of law and order that they took the government’s side – they even approved of the military action. ”

“And what happened to Peter? Did he go to prison?”

“No. They didn’t want Peter using the trial to draw attention to the fact the army had been ordered to fire on our own citizens, so they quietly discharged him.

” Josiah sighed. “He tried to drum up some media interest, but nobody would touch it. Everyone was too scared of the bogeymen that lurked in the Quarterlands. The riots were subdued, and all the escaped indies were found and returned to their houders. It was made very clear to the Quarterlanders that they were not to harbour them again. That made it harder for indies to escape in the years that followed, leading, in my view, to the rise in cases of houders being murdered by their servants that we’ve seen lately.

” He clasped his hands together and leaned across the table.

“Desperate people with nowhere to go will lash out when they reach breaking point,” he explained, looking Alexander straight in the eye.

“What happened to you after you arrested Peter?” Alexander didn’t rise to the bait.

“I had a commendation placed on my file for my actions.” Josiah gave a bitter snort.

“I couldn’t stay in the Military Police, though, not after that.

I got out as soon as I could after Peter’s dishonourable discharge.

” He sat back and took a sip of his Coke.

“Dishonourable.” He shook his head. “That man didn’t have a dishonourable bone in his body. ”

Alexander was still gazing at him intently, obviously captivated by the story. Josiah cleared his throat, feeling uncomfortable with the scrutiny.

“You asked me how I joined Inquisitus – well, that’s how.

I sent an application to Inquisitus, because they’re the best investigation agency around.

I didn’t realise it at the time, but Esther hired me precisely because of that commendation.

She liked it, because she thought it meant I’d always put the law above everything else, even my own husband. ”

“She was wrong,” Alexander said quietly. “You put love first, even though it broke your heart. You’re not a pragmatist, you’re a romantic.”

Josiah gave a dry laugh. “Are you only just figuring that out? I keep all of Peter’s clothes in boxes upstairs because I can’t bear to throw them out, and I haven’t touched another man in the seven years since he died.”

Alexander gazed at him thoughtfully. “That’s quite a secret you shared with me. If it forms the basis of the trust Esther Lomax has in you, then I could tell her, and that could cause problems for you.”

“I know.” Josiah nodded. “But you told me earlier that you want to trust me, so I thought the best way of earning your confidence was to share something secret and personal.” He leaned forward expectantly. “Now it’s your turn.”