Chapter 33

Chapter 33

At that precise moment in the United Kingdom news of a second bomb detonating in a prominent location in London began to circulate through the various news channels, by which time Commander Strong rather thought that every television set in the country had been switched onto one of them as people at home watched the horror unfold, and those in the control room were no different, as the handful of news anchors relayed in a sombre voice all the fragmented pieces of information they had gathered they too were nothing but bystanders, glued to the screen and unable to turn away. Truro listened with growing frustration as they hadn't been able to prevent this second attack.

"Police and other emergency services are racing to aid those injured in the second blast of the evening that has rocked our capital," A well-groomed young man in a blue suit reported, clearly shaken but managing to keep his demeanour calm and controlled in front of the camera. He couldn't have imagined that this was the news he was going to be reporting when he pulled into work that afternoon, "Casualty numbers are unknown at this stage but every hospital in and around London are on standby to receive potentially hundreds as the second blast is reported to have been the bigger of the two. As the security threat level is raised to the highest it has ever been, there is sure to be questions as to how this could have happened and if it could have been prevented-"

That's it. Swiping the remote up from the countertop beside him Truro switched off the television screens pitting them all into an empty void of darkness. It wasn't enough for these vultures to plaster pictures and videos of human beings in pain and turmoil but now they had to question his department. If it could have been prevented then they wouldn't be here in the first place, Truro sighed inwardly as the reality that they had missed something huge settled onto his shoulders.

Looking back up he realised that everyone was either watching him or contemplating the laces in their shoes very deeply as the tension in the room grew thicker.

"Get back to work," Truro barked, "Find me where their next target is; find me a pattern!" Truro threw the remote down and stormed away as he felt the pressure, and body count, mounting.

* * *

Bullets demolished the back of the boulder they were hidden behind as Carlos tightened the tourniquet around Twitch's leg. Looking at his friend Carlos saw his facial muscles twitching lightly from the stress and pain. He tried to keep the worry from his face as he said, "That should hold until we get you out of here."

Twitch looked up at him with large defeated eyes as he said, "don't you mean if we get out of here." Leant up against the rock Twitch looked down at his bloodied leg before quickly looking away again as he felt his pulse throbbing painfully. Medically he knew that he needed treatment soon if he was going to stop any infection and keep his leg, but that was out of his control. Glancing over at Samantha he saw that she was safely crouched behind the rocks, the heel of her hand pressed firmly against her forehead as she clenched her eyes shut.

"No," Carlos reached out and squeezed his shoulder, forcing Twitch to look away from MacAndrew and back at him, "I mean when we get out of here. Don't give up on me just yet."

Twitch sighed, "Okay, just- Carlos your arm! You need to get a bandage on that."

"My arm is fine," Carlos told him, his tone of voice halting any further conversation about it as he rooted through Twitch's medical pack. Finding a pair of gauzes Carlos ripped his trouser leg open wider so that he could press them to both the entry and exit wounds in Twitch's leg before wrapping a bandage around them to hold them in place.

"It doesn't look fine to me," Twitch carried on, wincing when Carlos knocked his wound, "And I am the medic you know." Before Twitch could laugh at his attempt to inject some humour – they say it is the best medicine after all – a hail of bullets closer than any of the others suddenly rained down around them. Carlos ducked his head a little into his shoulders but they were protected from the brunt of the attack by the large boulders they were crouched behind. Twitch looked back over at Samantha and saw that she had changed position. Her face was buried into her knees that were pulled up close to her chest whilst her arms were wrapped behind her head, her forearms flattening her ears to protect her from the noise.

After a moment the firing stopped as the military aircraft suddenly returned, the sound of its engines so close blocking everything else out until it fired a short burst of ammo into the field of terrorists, sparks of which reflected off the boulder surfaces around them. It provided them a reprieve and Carlos hurried to patch up Twitch's leg. They may have to move at any moment, but despite this Twitch once again mentioned his arm.

"It's just a graze," Carlos sighed, glancing down at his arm where the sleeve of his jacket had been ripped open to expose where a bullet had brushed the outside of his bicep, taking some of the flesh with it to leave a small but discernable crevice, "Besides, chicks love a good scar." He tried to distract him.

Twitch's lip tilted upwards in a smirk even though his eyes remained unconvinced and adamant that he needed to tend to it.

"What idiot ever told you that?" Samantha asked him quietly as she lifted her head and opened her eyes. The question implied that she was scoffing at Carlos's naivety but there was no condescending tone to her voice, only defeat. Twitch could see that she was tired and just wanted to go home. She looked lost and confused and he felt sorry for her.

But Carlos's response was vicious and well-deserved on his part, "Shut it. If it wasn't for you we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"Carlos-" Twitch began when he saw Samantha's frightened eyes widen and her body start to shrink back against the rock.

"No, don't forget who she is, Twitch," Carlos tied off the bandage, "Miss Top-of-her-class-in-field-operations," Carlos scoffed, "Yeah right, I guess you missed the class where they told you not to run towards the bullets, eh?"

"Carlos, she's-" Twitch frowned but Carlos carried on as if he hadn't heard him.

"She spied on us and she's investigating us. God knows what for! Everything she's doing now is probably just an act to get you to trust her. She's a spook, Twitch, don't fall for it."

"You mean you," Twitch told him.

"What?" Carlos frowned.

"She's not investigating us, she investigating you and Jules." Twitch told him and immediately regretted it when he saw the way Carlos's eyes shut down, his ebony gaze turning stormy and he recoiled a little.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Carlos stared at him, "You don't believe that she actually has anything on me and Jules? That we could do anything like what she's insinuating we did?"

"I admit that it's strange and clearly something happened," Twitch felt the side of his face tug back in a strong tremor, "The way you and Jules are together and how you don't speak about it-"

"-because I can't!" Carlos shouted over the fighting in frustration. A stupid signature on a piece of paper prevented him from telling Twitch everything about what happened, about the missions they underwent, the horrors they saw and the people they lost. Sometimes Carlos thought Jules was lucky that she lost those memories whilst he had to live with them every day, and he had no one to talk to about them. Jules had no memory that they even happened and Carlos could not inflict that pain on her by telling her the truth because he could not put those images in her head, plus he knew that she would feel guilty that he had to do this alone, and the only other two people that could understand what he went, and was still going through, were dead. And he did not wish to see Twitch end up that way.

"The military is all I have left," Carlos sighed as he stared into Twitch's eyes, "Please don't make me give that up by telling you something I physically can't."

Twitch was shocked, and Carlos knew that he still wanted to know but he nodded his head and didn't press him any further, "Okay." Carlos nodded his head in silent thanks.

"Um, sorry to interrupt your little moment guys," MacAndrew called from the other side

"What?" Carlos rolled his eyes and turned to look at her, frowning when he saw that she had shuffled back over to the rock and had her back pressed against it as she peered around it at something in the distance.

"I think we have company," She looked back at them in panic as she pointed at something behind the boulder and in the direction of the terrorists, "And not the good kind."

Grabbing his rifle from the ground beside him, Carlos stepped over Twitch and knelt at the edge of the boulder where there was a small gap between the two rocks just large enough to fit the width of his rifle. Nestling his weapon into the gap, Carlos peered through the night vision scope where he saw two jeeps in single file speeding fast along the bottom of the mountain. The vehicles were almost on an angle where the tyres on the right hand side were sometimes steered onto the mountain slope to avoid something in their path.

"Is it the terrorists?" MacAndrew asked in his ear, "What do we do? Can you see how many there are?"

Carlos wished she would stop chatting as he watched the two vehicles, similar to ones that Abbas's men were using but something did not sit right with them. Why would only they only send two vehicles when they had nearly a dozen left? His suspicions were further raised when bullets started firing but instead of them aiming at them they were being aimed at the two vehicles that sped towards them. They were nearly twenty metres out when Carlos saw who was behind the wheel of the first jeep.

"TWITCH!" Carlos called out, a smile on his face, as he spun away from the gap and hurried over to his friend and started to gather his things, "Our luck is starting to change!"

"What is it?" Twitch asked, sitting up eagerly.

"Yeah, what is it?" MacAndrew appeared beside them on her knees, her eyes wide.

"Kazeem and Hasan," Carlos told them gleefully, "It seems they found those two vehicles Jules sent them to get, and they're heading this way."

Twitch frowned, "How the hell did they know we were here?"

"I don't know, but they still might not know. They might be trying to get to the compound so I'm going to go and flag them down," Carlos leant down and ripped open a side pocket on his trousers and removed a flare, holding it up before them like it was the Olympic torch.

"Where the hell did you get that?" Twitch frowned as he held his rifle close.

"Took it from Kazeem's place," Carlos shrugged, "Thought it might come in handy. Guess I was right," He chuckled as he stood up and went to remove the top.

"Wait!" Samantha shouted up at him, "If you step out there with that you'll become target number one. They'll all train their guns on you." She stared at him as if he was crazy.

"You worried about me now, MacAndrew?" Carlos laughed as he leaned down and pulled Twitch's bag onto his other shoulder.

Samantha narrowed her eyes up at him.

"Just help Twitch to his feet and get ready to run," Carlos told her before he stepped out from around the boulder. The darkness helped to shield him for the moment as the terrorists attention were taken up by the jeeps that were still speeding fast towards them with no signs of slowing down anytime soon. Carlos could hear Twitch grunting as he fought his way onto his feet behind the boulder when the jeeps drew less than ten metres away and Carlos removed the top of the flare.

Bright red flames instantly erupted from the end of the cylindrical flare, illuminating the space around his head like one large homing beacon. Stepping forward into the path of the jeeps Carlos began waving his arms wildly, praying that Kazeem recognised him in the darkness and didn't run him down. He saw sparks flare at bullets ricocheted off the side of the vehicles, pinging as they hit the metal. As the vehicles drew closer so did the bullets and soon they were once again hitting the rocks behind him, missing his body by millimetres.

All the while the four thousand pound vehicles travelling well over fifty miles per hour kept driving straight towards him and for a moment Carlos had a terrible fear that he was going to have to jump out of the way when the Jeep suddenly swerved to avoid him before coming to an abrupt halt next to him. The passenger door swung open and Kazeem was at the wheel, "Get in!"

"Kazeem, I could bloody kiss you right now!" Carlos cheered as he threw the flare to the ground and shouted behind him, "Twitch, MacAndrew, get your asses out here!"

"I rather you wouldn't," Kazeem replied in answer to Carlos's earlier testament as he turned and fired out of the driver's window towards the insurgents.

Carlos just laughed and told him to wait there as he turned and helped lift the other side of Twitch. Leading him to the second vehicle, Samantha grabbed the back door and Carlos helped Twitch climb into the back and lie down on the back seat.

"MacAndrew get in the front foot well and keep your head down," Carlos ordered her as dumped Twitch's bag onto the floor behind the passenger's seat, "Hasan," Carlos shouted through the gap between the front and back seats, "Take them back to the compound and get yourself to safety."

Hasan nodded, "What are you going to do?"

"Carlos, no," Twitch called from the back seat.

"I'm going to finish what we set out to do," Carlos told him, "Now, go," He slammed the back passenger door shut.

"Wait!" Hasan shouted and threw a bag at him through the passenger window, "I think you'll need this more than us."

Carlos caught it against his chest, coughing a little as the heavy brown bag knocked the wind out of him. Looking inside his eyebrows raised a little as he saw numerous sticks of explosives.

"Thanks," Carlos gave him a small salute, "Now get yourselves out of here."

Hasan returned the small salute before he cranked the vehicle into gear and maneourved out from behind Kazeem's jeep. As he drove past Carlos looked back at the vehicle and saw Twitch peering out of the rear window at him before he ducked down out of view. Carlos stood there for a moment watching them leave when a bullet hit the ground by his feet and Kazeem began shouting his name. Running back and jumping into the passenger seat Kazeem started speeding off before Carlos had even shut the door.

"So, what's the plan?" Kazeem asked.

"Get me as close to those insurgents as you can."

"I know you British people are crazy but that's- what is that?" Kazeem looked at the bag on his lap.

Reaching inside Carlos pulled out a cluster of five dynamite sticks taped together with a fuse sticking out of the end, "Have you got a light?" Carlos arched an eyebrow as he smiled at Kazeem.

Kazeem started to chuckle, "I like this plan." Without warming Kazeem turned the vehicle away from the path that led towards the compound and started heading towards the insurgents, the jeep bouncing up and down violently as Kazeem drove over rocks and dips the size of England. As the suspension took a battering and Carlos knocked the roof a few times with his head, bullets pinged off the front of the vehicle as the insurgents focused on them entirely.

The group of a dozen vehicles of so had decreased a little as Carlos saw that a number of trucks were now on fire, undoubtedly from the air support they had miraculously received from somewhere but whilst a few bodies were led on the ground unmoving they were far outnumbered by those still firing at them. Carlos did not think they were going to make it very far as he took the offered square lighter from Kazeem and began to light the first fuse, never the less he carried on, thinking of those in the compound that needed him to do this.

"Let's see how they like this," Carlos muttered as he leaned out of the opened passenger window and threw the cluster of dynamite towards the closest vehicle he could see.

* * *

The paralysing crack of the bullet penetrating her shoulder vibrated through Jules's body as she fell to the ground, her mind growing paralysed as her vision swarmed with images of the rifle blast and the small smile that curved the shooter's lips before he pulled the trigger. Her blood was forced out with the bullet through the exit wound, warming her back as she led on the ground unable to move except for her eyes as they looked at the night sky above her.

Is this where it ends? Jules mind raced as her body shivered and she thought she might be able to feel her fingers again. Curling them under, or at least she thought she was, Jules began to feel the grainy sand beneath them and let out a shaken breath of relief. No, Jules swallowed with determination; no, it couldn't end like this.

Turning her gaze away from the bright stars she looked back to where the shooter had been and her heart started to pound inside her chest when she saw him standing there. His eyes were locked onto her chest and it rose and fell quickly, knowing that she was still alive he took a step towards her. Come on Jules! The tingling in her fingers began to spread up her arms and soon she felt it in her feet too. Turning her head to the side Jules gasped as she saw Marc led there, his head lolled to the side and his eyes appeared vacant.

"M-Marc," Jules gasped as the knock to the ground forced the air out of her lungs and the previous strangling attempt bruised her throat. Her breathing quickened and her eyes stung as her brain tried to comprehend what she was seeing but she didn't want to believe it. "Marc" She rasped, but looking closely she suddenly saw his eyes flicker towards her and her chest inflated with a large gasp of air. Staring at him in relief she saw him look down at his arm which was outstretched towards her and she realised that he was trying to reach for her, his fingernails dug into the ground in frustration.

Over her laboured breathing she heard the crunch of boots in sand behind her. Looking back quickly she saw that the shooter had taken another step towards her, his rifle hanging low beside him. Her brain was starting to clear from the fog that paralysed her and she calculated that she had less than steps to think of something. Your gun! Her mind suddenly blurted out the idea but before she attempted to reach for it and alert the shooter to her increased mobility she remembered that it wasn't there. She had felt for it when he first shot her- clenching her eyes shut she tried to block the images that flooded her brain of a bullet spinning through the air towards her. Pressing her back into the ground lightly she felt for any resemblance of a weapon in the waistband of her trousers just to make sure but she felt nothing. With her head still tilted to the side she looked past Marc and spotted a small black item on the ground nearly a hundred yards away. The gun. It must have dropped out when she was dragging Marc, Jules rationalised as her eyes closed in defeat.

Now what did she do? Think goddamn it! Perhaps she could kick out at the man when he got close enough and try to snatch the rifle from his hand? Looking back she saw that he had taken another step but he was taking his time, his eyes travelling over her wounded body led on the ground from his making. If she was going to kick out at him he needed to hurry up and take a few more steps but he seemed to be revelling in his shot. Looking across at Marc Jules saw the blood-soaked cloth around his neck, the sweat on his brow and knew that she didn't have the time to waste. As she turned her head to look back at her shooter her eyes travelled over the roof of the compound and she suddenly wondered where had Ridgeway's snipers gone? They were there earlier, helping to cover her and Marc when they were pinned down in the open so why weren't they there now? They could easily shoot this insurgent and rescue them, but they didn't?

Jules's mind raced as she tried to think of why they wouldn't be there. They would only leave their station if ordered to and the only person able to order them would be . . . Ridgeway. Jules's heart started to race again. Ridgeway had never liked the way she had left his special task force, and with that MacAndrew woman poking her nose in- No, Jules thought, Ridgeway wouldn't let her die out here surely! But, her mind interrupted, quick to sabotage any positive thoughts, he's done it before to Evans and Jackson. He's killed before. This would be the best opportunity for him.

The shooter took another step and Jules shifted a little as she prepared herself, knocking her shoulder as she did so and searing hot pain shot through her torso.

No, Jules convinced herself, Twitch and Carlos were in there. They wouldn't let him kill them . . . unless they're already dead too. Well, Jules thought, he wouldn't kill me that easily. I won't let him.

Turning to look down at her leg she saw that the shooter was still too far out of reach so she resorted to a risky tactic.

"What are you waiting for?" Jules shouted at the shooter, his eyes snapping up to look at her. She felt sick when she saw the smile on his lips but he didn't bite, he stayed exactly where he was.

"Come on then!" Jules screamed as she lifted her head off the ground a little, "I killed Abbas, surely you want to avenge him!" She saw that Abbas's name had a reaction and clung to it, "Abbas would have done it. He would have shot straight in the first place. I bet Abbas would-" The shooter raised his rifle and took a step towards her and breath caught in her throat. Looking down at his legs she focused on where to hit him when she saw another pair of legs behind his.

Falling silent Jules looked behind the shooter and her eyes widened when she saw who it was. She hadn't heard him clamber out of the compound but Ridgeway was poised behind the shooter, his revolver in hand. The shooter seemed unaware that he was there as he continued to point his rifle towards her head, the smile on his lips replaced with a grimace but Jules just stared at Ridgeway. He looked down at her and their eyes locked as a crooked smile came to his lips and her eyes widened. He really would let her die.

Her mind was racing as she tried to think what that meant when the shooter's finger tightened on the trigger. Lifting her leg Jules started her attack on the shooter when a single gunshot rang out and blood sprayed out over her body. Unclenching her eyes she saw the shooter's body collapse to the ground beside her, a large bloodied crater in the middle of his forehead as his eyes stared outwards, vacant.

Recoiling, Jules stared back at Ridgeway who had now stepped towards her with an accomplished look on his face.

Turning away Jules awkwardly got to her feet and began to step towards Marc when Ridgeway held up a hand to stop her.

"Get out of-" Jules barked when Ridgeway waved someone forward behind him and she saw two men from his new task force rush forward to pick Marc up and carry him the rest of the way to safety. She watched how easily they carried him and how quickly they got him into the compound.

"Did you really think I was going to let him shoot you?" Ridgeway asked her as he lowered his hand.

Jules hardened her gaze as she turned to look at him, "It had crossed my mind."

Ridgeway chuckled, "Mine too."

Jules eyes widened a little.

"But then I had a thought," Ridgeway rested a finger against his chin and Jules knew she was not going to like what came out of his mouth next, "If I saved your life you would owe me a favour. And I might just collect on it one day."

"Sir!" One of the men shouted from the compound, "Langdale is in a rough way, we need to get him out of here."

Jules turned to Ridgeway as she heard the man's words, "You save Marc, and then I'll owe you a favour." Striding past him she felt like she had just made a deal with the devil but she didn't care right then. She would sell her soul if it meant saving Marc's life.