[About a week after this article.]

There was already smoke billowing above the Whitby Gazette office building on Bridge Street when PC Wood rushed into the fire station and to alert the firefighters. By that time, others had gone before him, for the smoke could already be seen in the sky from far of. It had spread remarkably quickly. The sound of smashing glass and then, very quickly a blaze. Perhaps it was because of all the paper there – the weekly Gazettes, printed earlier that evening to be distributed the next morning, had perhaps provided excellent fuel, and fresh oxygen was being drawn in through the broken window.

Bridge street had been dark before, but now the panicked faces of the onlooking crowd were well lit. The offices above were empty and the printing staff had left after tying up the packs of newspapers and leaving them in neat – now burning – piles on the ground. Anxious neighbours had run out of their homes and together with others had attempted to put out the fire by throwing buckets of water at it, until the fire crew arrived. They had soon found that it seemed to feed the flames. Instead, they were now trying to bring the belongings from the neighbouring homes to safety.

Ruadhán had been on patrol for over an hour with the rest of the crew before the shout had come. They had not long returned to the station

The horses had not long been fed and watered when they were ushered towards bridge Street pulling the hand operated pump which they relied on. Ruadhain had jumped on, ready to go with his gear ready, and they sprinted off towards the scene of the fire.

Ruadhan spent a few moments formulating a plan and was quick into action. He jumped off the cart when they arrived and started barking orders "I want two delivery hoses set up! 2 lengths and be ready to extend"

It wasn't long before the police turned up and Ruadhan shouted "300ft perimeter sargeant!"

Alasdair hadn't long started his shift when the siren had been raised. Jamie was also on and was in the station when the smoke could be seen from Bridge Street. He looked to his cousin. "Come on this looks serious"

It wasn't long before Alasdair, Jamie and Chester had grabbed there kit and were heading up to Bridge Street. Alasdair and Jamie were sprinting as they had left the two police dogs in the Kennels at the station and were on foot to get to the scene as fast as possible. Chester didn't need to attend but he wanted out the office and more hands were always useful.

Alasdair arrived out of breath slightly but his cousin had kept up and they were instantly helping out the fire brigade. He heard the request from the leading firefighter and immediately formed his own plan. "Jamie you take the north side, I'll take the south" by this time the inspector had arrived and Alasdair spoke "sir you direct the other constables when they arrive and we will start sorting out a perimeter"

And with that. Jamie and alasdair took off to their allocated positions

P.C. Wood returned to the scene rather out of breath. But he instantly stopped huffing and puffing when he saw the boss. "Oi, you there!" he shouted at a young man whose curiosity drove him closer to the burning building. "Stand back." And he ushered the man back and took position to keep people away. "Are we sure there's nobody left in them neigbourin' 'ouses, Serg?" he shouted at Alasdair over the noise of the fire and water hoses.

Gareth had seen the smoke from his window and had quickly changed out of his nightclothes back into his regular clothes. His tie was poorly done. His hair was a mess. He was slightly tipsy on the whiskey he had been drinking. But there was a pencil and notebook in his pocket. Big fires like these were rare in Whitby, and he was ready to get all the details and write the first article on it.

His pencil and notebook were ready in his hands when he turned the corner, but he dropped both when he saw which building was on fire. No! It couldn't be! Gareth rushed forward. "Do something! Do something!" he shouted at the firemen as if they weren't already doing everything they could.

He could see the piles of newspapers burning. All those juicy revelations he had promised the public going up in flames!

Alasdair looked at Wood. "God knows Richard, that's the fire brigades job. If we can spare bodies to help search we will but not sure who else will attend" he looked over and saw Gareth and with a smirk he thought time himself I bet they won't run this story tomorrow

He looked at wood. "Get him bloody back from there!, get him back behind the perimeter," he thought to himself. He's lucky cockburn wasn't here. He'd split Gareths skull open given half the chance for a scrap. he looked to Wood once more "once the rest show up we will start organising ourselves to help search but until then we focus on the perimeter, let those boys deal with the fire and searching"

Ruadhán was gauging the scene. The building was complicated, but there was no way he would commit a team into the building if he didn't have to. He looked at the building and then continued to give orders.

He noticed the lines were out and was looking ahead "get water on that fire!" He looked around and saw Gareth standing there like a spare prick before shouting "get that halfwit behind the perimeter!"

His first blaze, a literal trial by fire. All the training and running around the yard, unrolling and rerolling hoses, didn't really do the experience justice. He hadn't expected the heat - not the warming and comforting kind - but the aggresive, dangerous, killing kind. All that paper and printer's ink provided rich food on which the fire could feed. This wild light of orange, yellow, and red, creating instant daylight in the darkness of night.

"Come on, Joe. it's just a barrel fire" he muttered to himself as his fingers fumbled with the hose. They'd fought minute barrell fires in the yard to practice. For some reason, his hands were shakier than they had been gripping the canvas casing. Soon though they would be engorged with water coursing through them, shooting liquid out the end any direction he chose to point it.

PC Wood lifted the young, skinny halfwit into the air and put him down behind the perimeter, shouting at him to shut up and follow instructions.

Noah Longbottom, meanwhile, had come to see what was going on. He watched the firemen work with discipline and resolution and suddenly felt the strong desire to be as heroic as them. These men seemed to know what they were doing. Everyone admired them. They were useful. Maybe he should apply to be a fireman as well!

Then his eyes met a group of young fisherman from the Cragg looking on. One of them spotted him, said something to another and nodded in his direction. Noah's courage melted like snow before a print house fire, and he moved closer to where a constable was guarding the perimeter.

He looked to the fire and then sighed. He looked to Joe and spoke. "Get yourself ready son. You and I are going in. Your on the branch. I'll go second"

He walked to their cart and started to get himself sorted. He didn't want to go in but the fire had developed and they needed to get water closer onto the flame to control it. He looked to Joe as he was getting ready "youve got this. Remember your training and drills and you will be fine. I'll look after you in there and we will get through it but I want you on the lead to see how you do. Slow is smooth. Smooth is fast. Don't rush take your time and let's do this right" and with that he placed his helmet onto his head once more and made his way to the door of entry and waited for Joe