Characters not mine.

(Originally written for a prompt on comment_fic. Prompt was the title.)

They'd arrested two armies together. Then Ahmed had disappeared into the desert before his boss had done something that Ahmed, at least, would regret. Then Vimes had wound down, gone back to Ankh-Morpork and arrested his own boss. Admittedly he'd only done so briefly and reluctantly, and Vetinari had been back to running the city in short order, but still.

Big crimes, little crimes. Neither he nor Ahmed was a big enough copper to police an entire country, but it occurred to Vimes sometimes that they had enough nerve. It was simply a matter of what they did with the mob of politicians once they'd gotten its attention.

But, well, Vimes maybe had the luxury of thinking about that, because the crimes he went after were what always seemed to get bigger. What kept getting bigger for Ahmed was his beat.

He was starting to get some idea of just how big Ahmed's beat really was. He'd been in the middle of it for four days, and most of that had been spent trying to find the old bastard.

Ahmed lit up his cigarette. "Would you care to explain why you're here again?" he asked.

"I was in hot pursuit," Vimes said, a little defensively. Once again he hadn't thought before he'd gotten on the boat. Sybil had probably been frantic and Carrot worried for a few days before he'd managed to get word sent home. And he was still in hot pursuit, dammit. Or he would be if he hadn't lost the trail and needed someone who knew the area to find it again. "I've chased men as far as Sto Lat or Quirm before, but. . . ."

There was a moment of silence. Ahmed exhaled a cloud of smoke. "But you have men in Sto Lat and Quirm, who work the way you do."

The Sammies. Vimes knew Ahmed had to have heard of them. But the Sammies might know him, and know cooperating was usually better than dealing with the political hassle caused by an angry Vimes tearing through town anyway, they weren't his men. "Coppers are coppers," he hazarded. "I knew there was at least one in Klatch, too." Which is why I spent the past seventy-two hours trying to find him, even though I knew how difficult you could make this.

Ahmed regarded him thoughtfully. "You say you were chasing a man known to kill over the price of knuckle sandwiches?" he asked.

Vimes nodded.

"I never have understood your city's attachment to that part of the pig," Ahmed said. "But if he is an Ankh-Morporkian, there are only so many places he would know to go. Perhaps we should get you a camel."

"Only if you let me find someone trustworthy to ask how to stop."

Ahmed grinned. If it weren't for the glint of teeth it would be like watching one of those scars opening up. "In this city? That would be just as difficult as finding one in yours. A horse, then."

Vimes didn't like the idea of a horse, either, but Ahmed's beat was much bigger than his. And once again, the chase was on.