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Blood continued to stream down her face as she tore along the pavement. Charlie had been left shaken and disoriented by their suspect’s unexpected attack, but there was no question of letting their fugitive escape. Without him they had nothing .

DC Roberts was just ahead of her, keeping pace with the fleeing docker.

Having assaulted Charlie, the suspect had raced out of the warehouse and across the yard, careering out onto the street and tearing away down the residential road, determined to evade arrest. Charlie had no idea yet as to the extent of his criminality, but he was certainly guilty of something , busting a gut to put some distance between himself and the breathless police officers.

Despite the intense pain and disorientation, Charlie managed to keep pace with him, angrily wiping away the blood that crawled over her lips and chin.

At the top of the street, the suspect changed direction, turning right and sprinting off down another street. Charlie pulled her radio from her pocket, rasping breathily into it:

‘Car three, come in, please.’

There was a brief silence, then her radio crackled into life:

‘Hearing you loud and clear, over.’

‘Suspect has fled the yard on Jennings Avenue and is now proceeding on foot down Broughton Road. Position to intercept, over.’

‘Roger that, over.’

Gripping her radio, Charlie charged on. Injured she might be, but she was fit and toned, the recent addition of regular PT sessions finally shifting the last of her baby weight.

Though she was a good twenty years older than the man they were pursuing, she was able to keep stride with him.

Better still, DC Roberts seemed to be gaining on him, just a few yards behind the desperate fugitive.

Surely it would not be long now until he was safely in custody.

As if on cue, the familiar blue Renault Megane skidded to a halt at the top of the road, cutting off the man’s escape route.

DC Shona Williams gripped the wheel, gunning the engine, but DC McAndrew was already getting out, her baton extended.

Alarmed, the fugitive now stopped abruptly, DC Roberts barreling into him from behind, surprised by this unexpected move.

As DC McAndrew advanced, there was a brief scuffle, then a cry of pain as the suspect rammed his knee into DC Roberts’ groin.

As the agonized officer collapsed, his attacker pivoted and raced back in Charlie’s direction.

Slowing her pursuit, she braced herself for his approach, pocketing her radio as she reached for her baton.

The assailant was too quick for her, however, and she had only just got her hand on the hilt as he threw himself at her, his shoulder slamming into her cheek.

Once more, Charlie felt herself flying backwards, her head hitting the concrete hard.

The suspect managed to stay on his feet, continuing on past her.

Stricken, Charlie staggered back up, with the help of a convenient wing mirror.

Shooting a backward glance, she was stunned to see DC Shona Williams’ Renault reversing away.

‘What the hell are you doing? He’s going that way …’

As she turned to gesture frantically in the direction of the man, she immediately spotted the problem.

A rubbish truck was coming up the street, effectively blocking the way ahead for DC Williams. The young DC had done the right thing, reversing quickly and then changing course to try and cut the fugitive off some other way.

She would need other officers on hand, however, as the suspect would clearly stop at nothing to escape, so Charlie half staggered, half ran up the road, pursuing the fugitive as best she could.

Even now, he cast a concerned look over his shoulder, clearly annoyed that the pursuing officers would not give up.

Perhaps if they stuck at it, if luck was on their side, they could still bring him in.

Her vision was blurred, the pavement seeming to rise up in front of her, but Charlie powered on, using every ounce of her determination and energy to keep going.

Her feet hammered the pavement, her footsteps echoing round the quiet street.

This seemed to alarm the man ahead, who raised his speed once more, pumping his arms violently as he sprinted forwards.

He was close to the end of the street and Charlie wondered what trick, what tactics, he would adopt now.

His mind must be working overtime, feverishly assessing his options, as he continued his desperate bid to escape.

Hitting the junction, he didn’t hesitate, lurching left back down Jennings Avenue.

Charlie was half-amused to see him slide over the bonnet of a parked car into the road to speed up his headlong escape, like some action hero in a Hollywood movie, but seconds later her good humour evaporated.

To her horror, Charlie heard the anguished squeal of brakes and then the unmistakable thud of a collision.

Shocked, she raced forwards, crying out as she spotted their suspect lying face down in the road, blood already seeping from a nasty head wound.

Nearby a car idled, stopped dead in its tracks by the accident, but Charlie ignored it, rushing over to the injured man instead.

Immediately, her stomach lurched, her heart in her mouth.

Their suspect was unconscious, a crimson pool of blood already forming a halo round his head.

Desperate, Charlie punched the call button on her radio.

‘This is DI Brooks, requesting urgent assistance. We need an ambulance ASAP and …’

But as she looked up, the words died in her mouth. There was no point calling for her colleagues because they were already here, DC Williams gripping the steering wheel of the offending car, her face a picture of abject horror.