Life had been wonderful and, sometimes, Tom had managed to forget the pain of losing his parents that still sat deep in his chest. Life went on, as always, and Cameron had known that keeping Tom busy and active was the only way to keep the boy moving forwards.

Tom shook his head and cleared the moment of reflection. He was hungry and needed something to eat. It wouldn’t be long before they were back out on the Basra streets once again.

3

14 years later

London

Tom drove his anonymous hatchback along Kilburn High Road, following a Friday late-shift as Duty Detective Sergeant. It had been a busy night with two stabbings and a raft of domestic assaults, meaning that by the end of the night every cell in the nick at Kilburn was full. He was supposed to finish at 10pm but it had been closer to midnight before he managed to get the decks cleared and handed over to the next Duty DS. It had been frustrating and for a moment he once again cursed his decision to take the promotion.

His previous job on the Homicide Task Force, part of the Homicide and Serious Crime Command, had been far more interesting and, he had to admit, a damn sight sexier. Lots of surveillance work against some very bad people: covert operations and man-hunts for murderers. But his attitude towards the job had been tainted thanks to some of the managers he’d worked for, who were ambitious just for the sake of ambition. They would use any situation simply as another means of furthering their career, and as another addition to their portfolios. Tom found all that self-serving to be so different from the military, and not in a good way. So, as he couldn’t beat them, he decided to seek promotion so that, maybe, he could balance the careerists out by being the best DS he could. In essence, he wanted to make a difference. But he was quickly finding that he’d wasted his bloody time.

In the name of ambition, he’d given it all up for the chance to manage a ridiculous case-load with insufficient resources. His team consisted of just him and a handful of DCs and trainees, all trying—and barely managing—to handle crime in a very busy London borough. It was the same all over in the age of austerity. Sod-all cops, rising crime, and forever shifting priorities from virtue-signalling senior officers. It was hard not to get cynical and jaded.