to capture the moment and then report on her observations afterwards, that would be enough. Though if he did decide to talk to her, that would certainly juice the footage up. But she wasn’t about to go out of her way to get the attention of some madman with a gun in his hand. She wasn’t stupid.
Her phone rang. Work number. She killed the call. She’d speak to them in half an hour when she had pure gold to put on the teatime news.
‘OK, we ready?’ DI Conway asked Ashley and Gina.
Ashley felt her stomach flip over. But she ignored it. ‘Ready.’ She turned to Gina. ‘How about you?’
Gina shrugged. ‘Not at all. But let’s do it anyway.’
Ashley smiled without meaning to. She was thinking about that conversation she and Gina had had a few hours ago, about Ashley always being alone in the foxhole. Because right now, for the first time in a long time, that wasn’t how it felt. Reluctant as Gina was, she was doing this with her for no other reason than that Ashley had asked her to.
But anyway, it was time for Ashley to seize her destiny.
***
DI Conway raised the bullhorn to her lips. ‘Sir?’ The whole crowd of police officers - plus Ashley and Gina, stood behind the line of cops and cars, peeking through a small gap in the vehicles - cringed as feedback murdered their ears.
DI Conway tried again, moving the bullhorn a bit farther from her lips. ‘Sir, are you ready to come out? I have what you requested. A news crew are here to film while we talk.’
Nothing happened for a second, and everyone waited anxiously. At last, the door cracked ajar and Ashley, standing next to Gina with her cam on her shoulder, held her breath.
An older woman in glasses stepped out. She had her hands up. ‘Don’t shoot!’ the woman yelled. ‘I’ve got the man behind me!’
Everyone watched carefully as the woman stepped forward. Behind her, you could just about make out another person. Ashley could only catch parts of him, a bit of hair, an arm, a nose. ‘Oi, news bird?! You there?’ came a yell.
Ashley didn’t realise he meant her until DI Conway turned and glared at her. ‘Answer him!’ she said sternly.
‘Oh! Err, yes, sir. I’m right here. Ashley Quick for KTN.’
A head popped briefly around the woman, and Ashley got a better look at him as he locked eyes with her. Ashley felt her stomach turn over as he glanced from Ashley to the camera next to her before he dropped quickly back. He was on the small side - kind of runty even - about forty, with a small moustache and a receding hairline. Not much to intimidate. He still scared the crap out of Ashley.
‘Ashley Quick?’ he said disappointedly. ‘I watch the teatime news; I don’t remember you.’
Classic, Ashley thought. ‘I did that story last week about the guy who had the graffiti on his café window calling him a dick splash? I mean, we couldn’t actually show the words “dick splash”, but you could sort of see it through the blur.’
‘Oh, yeah,’ the man said. ‘I remember that.’ He paused. ‘So you’re not, I mean, you’re not really a… Are you the only one that came?’
‘I don’t think the national media have gotten ahold of this yet, sir. I just got lucky.’
‘Oh,’ the man said, saddened. ‘I thought you might be a bit bigger. Never mind.’
Ashley glanced around at the coppers, all looking at her now. She wanted to die. The gunman thought she was too small-time to cover him. ‘Sir, I may be an, err, up and comer, but I promise, I will cover your story completely. My camerawoman and I will stay here for as long as it takes.’
Ashley felt Gina shuffle beside her, and she could tell that hadn’t gone down very well. But she had to get this man’s confidence. ‘Is there anything you’d like to talk to me about?’
The gunman paused. ‘Yes. But I need you to come closer. I want you to get a good look at this.’
Ashley paused. She glanced over at DI Conway, who gave her a subtle shake of her head. She glanced over at Gina, who was staring at her with the eye that wasn’t on the viewfinder. It was wide with panic.
Ashley turned back to the gunman. ‘Sir, I can assure you that my camerawoman will get everything from this distance. She’s got a good, err, long lens. Haven’t you?’
Gina