TWENTY-THREE
It was organised chaos at the station; frenetic action, tension and excitement pervading the halls. Jo held sway, marshalling the troops, one of her strengths in a crisis, and she allocated her officers tasks to mop up the aftermath, using uniform teams seconded from Cosham and Central to make up the compliment.
Kettle and Jed were at the hospital, coordinating their own allocation of uniforms to secure the walking wounded, watching, so they didn’t walk, taking details to the usual chagrin of the nursing and medical teams. Kettle though, with his eloquent melodic baritone voice and gentlemanly manner, was able to smooth the way, and enforcement and care were managing to rub along. They reported to Jo, three fatalities, no identities as yet, some seriously wounded, but mainly
