Chapter 35

Happy holidays everyone!

Chapter 35

The director of MI5 strode into the control room with a look of controlled anger on her face. There was nothing more she hated than surprises and a call from the PM's private line had blindsided her completely.

Swiping her key card over the appropriate scanner she waited for the loud, monotone buzzer that told her the door was unlocked before she pushed it open and stepped from the hard tile of the corridor onto the thin dark carpet of the control room.

"Can someone please tell me," She called out, her voice travelling over the vast space, announcing her arrival to everyone, "Why I have the Prime Minister ringing me personally for an update on the situation?"

Truro looked up from the screen which held some of the information one of Strong's men recovered from the previous site when he heard the unmistakeable voice of his boss. Turning away from the map he was analysing he looked up the walkway that ran between the rows of computers and saw that he was correct and indeed, the head of MI5 was making a beeline towards him. His breath caught in his throat for a second as he gathered his nerves.

Patricia Wallace, head of the intelligence community that was MI5, was beautiful but she was made of iron and sterner stuff. She hadn't got to the position she was in now before her fiftieth birthday without drawing some blood and, if he was to believe the stories flying around the rumour mill, breaking some laws. She was the perfect person for the job; she somehow made it so that her employees were both in fear and in admiration of her. Summed up people wanted to be her but not get on the wrong side of her and as she walked towards him now Truro knew that he had gotten on the wrong side of her.

Walking out behind the row of computer analysts Truro stopped in aisle that ran down the theatre of rows, much like a lecture hall, and greeted her, "Ma'am-"

"-Truro," Wallace declared when she saw him, her lips pressing together in a tight thin line as she clasped her hands in front of her, "Do you care to tell me why you're not keeping the commander in chief of this country in the loop on this ongoing situation? Where is the liaison to Downing Street?"

Truro felt like he was at a performance review as he stared into Patricia's blue judging eyes behind her black-rimmed glasses. "It wasn't intentional," Truro started and he knew it was a weak argument the moment he said it. Truthfully he just had bigger things on his mind than how the Prime Minister was feeling, he knew the Secret Service would care to his wellbeing and he would be informed if anything arose, after all that is one of the reasons why they had these separate divisions, "We just have nothing to appraise him with yet-"

Wallace's eyes widened and her head jutted forward a little as if she had not heard him correctly, "Nothing to appraise him with?" She threw her arm out towards the floor-to-ceiling screen behind him that was still displaying fractured drone footage, "You have American aircraft landing at the site this very moment. Do you not think that that is worth letting the prime minister, or myself for that matter of fact, know about? What are they even doing there, did you call them?" Wallace was not one to call in favours from over the pond if she could help it.

"No Ma'am," Truro replied, "Commander Ridgeway called them from a sat phone on the ground."

"Commander Ridgeway," Wallace shook her head as she remembered her brief meeting with the obnoxious man, "Why did you not send out any of our aircraft that we had in the area?" She wanted to know as she thought about how the American agency were going to spin this around on them so that it looked like they had saved them rather than the truth which- Wallace was shocked to think she still didn't know everything yet. She needed to have another talk to Ridgeway when he landed.

"Honestly ma'am?" Truro raised his eyebrows, "We didn't deploy a convoy because we're not supposed to be there. The mission was unsanctioned and we're getting calls from the Afghan government asking why we're conducting a mission on their soil without their knowledge. I was trying to prevent a potential future political disaster."

"Hmm," Patricia Wallace narrowed her eyes at him as his words held some common sense to them. She was worried about the same thing, "You should have still informed the PM. He wants to be kept up to date on all future decisions and-" Wallace paused as a man in camouflage uniform walked slowly towards them, a look of concern on his face before he stopped beside them, "- I'm sorry, can I help you?" She asked.

"Apologies Ma'am," Strong introduced himself and his rank, "But did I just hear correctly? Did you just say that we had aircraft- British aircraft in the area?"

Wallace seemed to take a second to decide whether she should divulge their training information or not but she nodded her head, "We have aircraft a few miles from the sight doing a training exercise with the ANF."

Truro closed his eyes briefly as he waited for the shit storm about the come his way as Wallace informed Strong that they had had aircraft close by all along and that Truro had known about it.

Strong turned on his heel and stared at Truro as if he had just stabbed him in the back, "You knew there were aircraft close by and you didn't send them!? My team could have been out of hostile territory by now and we could have avoided all this bloodshed!"

"You're right," Truro nodded, "If I had sent in the convoy earlier then your team might have been safe but we don't know that. What we do know is that if I sent in the convoy then Muhammad Abbas-" Truro shouted, pointing to the top corner of the screen where Abbas's picture was resting with the word 'DECEASED' stamped over it in red capital letters, "-wanted for murdering hundreds of innocents would most definitely still be alive . . . after we had already declared him dead!" Truro took a breath before running a hand over his mouth, "The intelligence service would never be trusted again and our relations with the Afghan government would be in jeopardy," Truro defended himself, "It was a calculated decision. I had every belief that your team could manage-"

"-No," Strong cut him off and jabbed a finger in his chest, "-You weighed your own personal agenda against the lives of my team, the Prime Minister's niece and the twenty six children down there! You weighed their lives against Abbas's and deemed it was a price worth paying."

Truro looked at him sharply, his lips parting to speak when Wallace stepped in.

"Commander-" Wallace drew his attention, "We can come back to this later. What's done is done, let's focus on working together and getting everyone out of there alive-"

"-You may already be too late," Strong shook his head and walked away.

* * *

Lying out on the back seat of the jeep Carlos booted open the rear passenger door and scrambled out as fast as he could. Holding his rifle close to his chest he knelt on the ground, the car now acting as a barrier between himself and the remaining terrorists on the opposite side, as he looked around him and gauged his bearings. As he did so the driver side door opened and Kazeem fell out backwards, landing on his back with his legs in the air.

"Alright there?" Carlos laughed.

Kazeem glared at him as he pulled his legs out of the jeep, slammed the door shut and turned himself over until he was knelt beside Carlos, his shoulder resting against the car. Both of them turned to look up at the sky, their focus solely on the three black dots in the distance hovering just outside of range.

"There's the cavalry," Kazeem noted, using Carlos's previous words, "But they cannot land. The brainwashed Osama Bin Laden's over there will shoot them down if they get too close," Kazeem peered up through the driver's window at the small group of men that were firing blindly into the sky. At the moment they seemed to have forgotten about them but Kazeem did not know how long that was going to last for.

"You're right," Carlos sighed, resting his elbow against his knee, "And the longer it takes for them to land the worst Twitch is going to get and the more chance one of those insurgents are going to remember that they have RPGs on the back of those trucks," Carlos nodded in the distance to where long military grade rectangular boxes were waiting to be used, "And if they fire one of those, then we're finished."

"What about the others?" Kazeem pointed with his thumb over his shoulder towards the direction of the compound, "Maybe they heard the aircraft too and could-"

"-We can't rely on them, we don't know what condition they're in," Carlos bowed his head a little as he thought the worst.

"Hey, they'll be fine," Kazeem reassured him by reaching out and clasping his shoulder.

Carlos smiled at him in thanks, "But if they're not then they're going to need a clean and quick run to those helicopters when they land, and we're the only ones that can give it to them."

"What are you thinking?" Kazeem asked.

Carlos tried to get his thoughts in order when he looked back at the RPGs on the trucks, "We can't let the insurgents get to those RPGs,"

"Agreed," Kazeem looked around them, keeping an eye on the perimeter.

"So what if we got to them first?" Carlos thought out loud, the corner of his lips tilting up in a smirk.

"That would be a turn of the tables, as you say," Kazeem replied.

"It would certainly draw their attention away from the helicopters and the building," Carlos smiled as a plan started to form in his mind, "Right, so we use the other trucks between here and there as cover. I'll go first."

"I've got you," Kazeem checked his rifle as Carlos got to his feet and approached the rear of the jeep, eyeing a flat bedded truck just over fifteen feet away. Peering around the edge, Carlos could feel his lungs expanding and deflating as he breathed in warm air, preparing himself. He counted twelve men stood firing into the sky, keeping the helicopters at bay, and when he was certain that each of their attentions were taken up he put his head down and sprinted over to the other vehicle. His nerves were fried and with every step he thought they were going to hear or see him but as he came to a halt behind the truck, his boots skidding in the sand, he looked back and realised that they were still firing at the aircraft.

Taking a small breath Carlos hoped that this luck lasted as he turned and motioned for Kazeem to cross as well whilst Carlos trained his rifle on the group, keeping an eye out, but Kazeem was only halfway across when he spotted one of the men stood on the edges of the group look down to reload his rifle. Before Carlos could tell Kazeem to drop to the ground and freeze the young man had spotted him and began to raise a hand to inform his comrade beside him.

He was wearing a pale tunic but in the next moment it was stained red as Carlos fired a couple of rounds into his chest, his hand was just inches from his friend's shoulder when his body staggered back over a rock. As his body hit the ground Kazeem joined him behind the truck.

"Thanks," Kazeem breathed heavily a little as he looked back over his shoulder.

"Don't mention it," Carlos muttered as the firing turned away from the aircraft and began to rain down around them once again. He could hear the bullets pinging off the metal framework of the truck and see where they landed in the ground with a small spray of sand.

"I think that luck you were chatting about just ran out," Kazeem said.

"Hey, we're still alive aren't we," Carlos reached out and tapped him against the chest before he gripped his rifle, stepped around him and approached the other end of the vehicle, keeping himself crouched low, "Want to make a bet?"

"On what?" Kazeem's thick eyebrows furrowed, "Which one of us dies first?" He exclaimed.

Carlos shrugged nonchalantly, "Sure, why not? It might help me through this."

Kazeem stared at him before he let out a sigh and shook his head, "You have not changed. Can we just go please?"

"Fine," Carlos grumbled, "Spoil sport."

"Hate me after we get out of here," Kazeem told him.

"Deal," Carlos looked over his shoulder at Kazeem and gave him a playful wink when there was a small lull in the firing. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

"Okay," Carlos peered around the truck to see the men reloading and took his chance. Darting out from behind the truck he pulled on his depleting energy reserves and pushed his legs hard to the other side, hoping that the end of this episode in his life was close at hand.

*

Hunkered down in the corridor nearest to the exit that gave them the best path to the helicopters Julia looked behind her at the line of twenty six children knelt on the ground quietly. Directly behind her was Safia who was looking at her with her wide chocolate eyes and Jules reached back and grabbed her hand, letting her know it was going to be okay as the distant sound of gunfire filled the air periodically.

"Is- Is Marc going to be okay?" Safia asked her quietly as she looked down to the ground. Jules peered over her head towards where Marc was led on the ground beside Twitch. He had lost consciousness a little over five minutes ago and he still hadn't come around, unnerving Julia but if she wanted to help him then she needed to get him out of here.

"He's going to be fine," Jules squeezed Safia's small fingers as she looked away from Marc and smiled down at her, "Stay close to me, okay?"

Safia nodded and Jules uncurled her hand from hers and returned it to the handgun that Wright had lent her after she realised that the only way she was going to get her rifle back was if Julia had some other substitute.

"This is our chance," Cromwell said from the other side of the open doorway, "The insurgents are occupied with something over the other side."

From Hasan and Twitch's depiction of what happened Julia knew -at least she hoped - that he meant Carlos and Kazeem.

"Okay, prepare to move out," Jules informed the others, "I'll take point, Cromwell you take the middle and cover Jasmine. Wright you bring up the rear with Ridgeway and cover Marc and Twitch, got it?"

Ridgeway seemed upset that he was at the back of the line but he did not have the time to argue and nodded his head. His other two operatives were carrying Marc.

"Good, move out." Julia gave the hand signal to the others as she rose to her feet, keeping her back low, and turned the corner. Safia was right behind her, her small fingers holding onto the bottom of her shirt so that she didn't get lost.

Walking as fast as she can but slow enough so that the others could keep up with her Jules made a path through the wreckage of cars and terrain towards the aircraft that had finally managed to land on a flat plane of land about a hundred metres ahead of them. Turning her body from right to left Jules kept an eye on their surroundings as they progressed across the open dessert to their refuge, all the while keeping her eyes open for Carlos and Kazeem.

As they grew closer to the helicopters Jules could feel her heartbeat raising and her footsteps growing longer and quicker but she knew she had to keep her emotions in check and watch her corners. The small fingers holding onto the back of her was her reminder to slow down when a body ran out from behind a truck holding a rifle and blocking their way to the exfil site. Jules did not waste a second in squeezing the trigger and putting a round in his chest but as she did so she sent up a signal to the others that they were there. Now they really did have to hurry.

Half-walking, half-jogging the last few metres to the first helicopter Jules turned and watched their rear as a man in an aviator jumpsuit hopped down and started to help lift the children up into the aircraft, instructing them to move all the way to the back as they tried to make room for everyone. As the first aircraft filled up Cromwell steered Jasmine and the remaining children towards the middle chopper whilst Ridgeway navigated his operatives and the wounded Twitch and Marc towards the one on the end. Jules watched them with hawk eyes, not trusting Ridgeway but she did not have the chance to argue right then.

"Is that everyone?" The man shouted from on board the aircraft and over the noise of the rotators on top of it as they started to pick up speed, the crew expecting to take off soon.

"No!" Julia shouted holding up her hand, "Two more!"

"Where are they?" He shouted, "We have to leave!"

"They'll be here!" Jules looked back, her eyes scanning the area hopefully. Seconds passed as the blades above her performed more and more full circles, the helicopter struggling to remain on the ground as the two aircraft took off immediately. Jules held her breath as she watched them rise into the air in suspense until she could only see the few flickering lights on the aircraft as it sped away, carrying Marc and Twitch to safety. Now only for Carlos and Kazeem but when she looked back they were still nowhere to be seen.

"We're going. Now get in!" The man ordered her.

*

"Let's go!" Kazeem shouted as he jumped down from the back of the truck, seeing two aircraft lift off in the distance.

"Coming!" Carlos replied as he disabled the weapon and turned to follow Kazeem when his boot kicked a metal box which had shifted away from the back and caused the lid to spring open revealing a pile of grenades inside.

"Hold up!" Carlos shouted out as he jumped down but turned back towards the truck bed and pulled the box towards him.

"What is it?" Kazeem snapped as he peered around the truck and saw the insurgents beginning to come out from behind their rocks, growing brazen from the lack of return fire.

Carlos knew that these were probably very old and very unstable grenades but the opportunity would provide them precious seconds, not to mention a ton of cover, for them to reach the aircraft safely. Reaching in and pulling one out, Carlos held down the handle and removed the clip before looking at Kazeem over his shoulder, "Get ready to run," He laughed as he gently led the grenade on top of the others and removed his hand.

Turning on their heels Kazeem and Carlos legged it as fast as they could away from the trucks and towards the aircraft far in the distance when they heard a massive explosion behind them that seemed to rock the earth beneath their feet, causing it to shake. Stopping to look over his shoulder Carlos gasped when he saw the truck itself had been launched nearly a dozen foot into the air as a plume of flames expanded outwards from the epicentre.

"Yip-ee-ki-yay Motherfuckers!" Carlos cheered loudly as he did his best Bruce Willis impression. And Carlos's mood only improved when they got to the aircraft and found that, not only was it still there, but Jules was holding her gun to the pilot's head.

"Cutting it a bit close, aren't you?" Jules snapped at him as she lowered her gun from the man's head and apologised for having to do it.

Carlos looked at her questioningly.

"He wanted to take off without you," Jules explained as they leapt up into the aircraft, "Was that you?" She nodded to the explosion.

"Don't look at me," Kazeem held his hands up as he found a space to collapse.

Carlos grinned back at her in such a way that she didn't need to ask any more questions but as she sat down and the carrier lifted off she started to feel the fatigue and worry she had been fighting off start to consume her.

Sighing, Carlos sat down opposite her and watched as Safia clambered over to Jules and leant her head on her shoulder. He smiled as he saw it and he knew that this is why they came here and it's why he does this job – for moments like these.

"Where are Twitch and Marc?" He asked as he looked around and saw that they weren't there.

"They're in the other carrier," Jules replied, not looking at him as she did so and Carlos knew when something was wrong.

"What is it?" Carlos frowned, sharing a look with Kazeem before he leant across and touched her arm, "Jules, what's wrong?"

Holding Safia close for support, Jules told him everything.