Hard Return

by Rosie Claverton

‘We’ll have to fight our way out,’ Pansy said, intensely. ‘All guns blazing.’

  ‘Except they’re the ones with the guns,’ Gareth said, wincing.

  ‘That’s why I need to talk to the Governor.’

  ‘Good luck with that,’ Gareth said, lowering his voice. ‘He’s quiet as a church mouse, hanging out in that dark canteen place by himself.’

  ‘He’s lost it,’ Pansy said, bluntly. ‘That’s what Gar’s trying so hard not to say. The boss has fucking lost it.’

  Suddenly, out of nowhere, Jason saw Amy’s face appear out of the darkness. He somehow avoided calling out – and then she was gone. Was he hallucinating? Or was she emerging from hiding, taking advantage of their double pool of light to make her escape? On one hand, he was glad she was getting herself to safety. On the other, he felt like he was on his own, even though Lewis had his back and Anchor was undercover. Amy was his other half, his partner against crime. He needed her.

  ‘Jay Bird? Are you listening?’

  He shook his head. ‘Sorry. I…uh…I just thought…’

  Gareth nudged Pansy. ‘It’s catching.’

  ‘Maybe there’s something in the air,’ Pansy said, only half-joking.

  ‘I’m fine,’ Jason said, firmly. ‘Let’s go see The Wizard.’

  Chapter 51: Into the Woods

  The wood was haunted by shadows.

  Cerys kept close to Catriona, holding up the map. She could hear Owain’s footsteps behind them and saw a hundred creatures leap and swoop and scurry out of the blackness. At least Catriona seemed to know what she was doing with the gun, holding it level and not swinging it towards everything that moved.

  Until a man ran straight at them.

  ‘Fuck! You’re armed!’

  ‘Stand down, agent,’ Owain said, firmly.

  The man deflated, panting as he put his hands on his thighs. ‘The SDs have gone crazy, sir. They think they’re fucking commandos.’

  ‘Are they in the Hide?’

  The man laughed weakly. ‘Oh no. They’re out in the woods, forming a perimeter for when the prisoners leave the compound. SD1 said he wanted to hunt them like dogs.’

  Cerys had never felt more frightened. Men with guns were going to hunt down her brother in these dark and twisted woods. He would never get out alive.

  ‘You escaped from them?’

  ‘SN1 wanted us all to wait, to stay together. But SD1 and the rest decided to go it alone. So SN1 said he'd escort us out of the woods – some of them had gone ahead to contact Control. But we…well, it sounded like there was a gunshot and we all ran like hell.’

  ‘Keep going straight through the woods. Wait ten minutes for other agents, then retreat to the farmhouse.’

  ‘Tell them Catriona sent you.’

  The agent looked at Catriona and her gun, before nodding slowly. He then left them without a word, loping away through the woods as if his colleagues were on his tail. Fuck, this was a mess. Cerys had always known the NCA was batshit, but this was another level.

  ‘Let’s keep going,’ Catriona said, and as Owain didn’t contradict her, on they went.

  They saw the compound first, a hulk of a building in clear open space surrounded by a chain-link fence. Again, there were people moving around it, but the darkness made it almost impossible to recognise anyone.

  ‘This is where my map ends,’ Catriona said.

  ‘I can take us from here,’ Owain answered, taking the lead.

  They moved silently along the fence, but a voice hissed from behind it.

  ‘Agent Jenkins! Over here!’

  Owain took a few steps back, Catriona and Cerys keeping their distance. Cerys wanted to get on with this, not tend to the masses who Owain had let down. She needed to stop Jason catching a bullet.

  ‘Where are the others?’ the woman asked him, sounding desperate.

  ‘We’re the…the advance party,’ he said, but it wasn’t particularly convincing. ‘What are you doing out here?’

  ‘We were sent up into the compound as ‘freed hostages’, but Agent Lane told us to get outside, that the negotiation had broken down.’

  ‘She was right. Stay away from the door and the fence. Keep together.’

  ‘We can follow our training, sir.’

  The woman’s voice was cold, but then she was only wearing a cardigan. Cerys felt sorry for her, following orders from Owain and Amy. Not exactly a pair to inspire confidence.

  Owain left her with a nod, and the three of them carried on, continuing to use the fence as a guide. Cerys wondered why they were sticking to it when Owain had just told the other agents to stay away. Maybe he didn’t care as much if they got shot by rogue agents. Frieda probably didn’t value cop lives as highly as agents’.

  ‘We’re close to the Hide now,’ Owain said. ‘Look out for—’

  They were swiftly and completely surrounded within seconds. Cerys grabbed Catriona’s shoulder with a yelp, which somehow didn’t stop Catriona from pointing the shotgun at some agent’s head.

  ‘Put that toy away,’ the man said.

  ‘Are you a cop killer now?’ Catriona replied.

  ‘Stand down, SD1,’ Owain said, in his voice of command.

  The agent just laughed. ‘You’re not in charge anymore, Jenkins. Get your pet cop to put away her little gun.’

  ‘Agent Haas has sent me to recover the situation after you all fucked it up,’ Owain lied, calmly and confidently. ‘Stand down.’

  ‘Even if I believed she would trust you again, I don’t buy that she'd send you in with a couple of WPCs.’

  ‘This is a joint operation and we are an advance party only. It’s hard to find trained NCA agents in the Middle of Nowhere, Wales, at short notice. At least, it’s hard to find ones who can follow orders.’

  ‘Fuck you, Jenkins.’

  ‘After you put down your gun, Onesie.’

  ‘Back off from the bitches, boys,’ the agent said, trying to hide the anger in his voice with a laugh. ‘They’re both dykes anyway.’

  ‘You need to escort—’

  ‘You might be Haas’ good dog, but I’m her fucking pitbull. I am going to lie in wait for those prison boys and then I’m going to take them down. Fuck the experiment. They are endangering agents.

  ‘Like you’re not,’ Cerys said, her mouth engaging before her brain. Maybe she shouldn’t be so willing to taunt the man with the assault rifle.

  ‘I can tell a piss-pants agent from a hardened thug, yeah. And I don’t report to either of you. Write me up or whatever. I’m here to save lives, not earn commendations. Back to positions, boys.’

  The men with guns melted away into the darkness as if they’d never been there. Cerys found that even more terrifying than being surrounded by their real and immediate presence. She wanted to know where the bullet with her name on was coming from.

  ‘Let’s go before they change their minds,’ Owain said urgently.

  They didn’t need telling twice.

  The Hide was little more than a shack, like some cabin in the woods that featured in a horror movie. It had been camouflaged with branches, but Owain made a direct line for the door and found an oddly-juxtaposed keypad under the foliage.

  The door opened and the warmth of the room spilled out. There were two women standing in the middle of the room, out of breath and carrying a set of minor injuries that had been tended to. At the back, a man was leaning over to help someone up out of a hatch in the floor – and that someone was Amy.

  She looked pale and worn, but surprisingly with it. She tried to remove her hand from the man’s, but he was holding on tight, leaning in as if he was about to kiss her—

  ‘Amy!’ Cerys yelled, before she saw something she couldn’t unsee.

  Amy jerked away from him, freeing her hand, and looked as if she was seeing a series of gho
sts. She eventually smiled and gestured for the man to close the hatch behind her. He looked disappointed, but Cerys didn’t want to dwell on that.

  ‘The cavalry’s here,’ Catriona said with forced cheer, setting down her shotgun on the table and closing the Hide door.

  ‘Good,’ Amy said, with feeling, ‘because it’s about to go to shit down there.’

  Chapter 52: Downfall

  In the canteen of the bunker, he made for a sad figure.

  They hadn’t seen him at first, the beam from their torches too powerful, but Jason suddenly made him out in the corner and swung the light on him. He didn’t give any sign that he'd seen them, just continued staring down at his hands. Jason set the torch down on the table with the beam up towards the ceiling, the light spilling across the room.

  ‘Look on my works ye mighty and despair,’ the man formerly known as the Governor said. No one could possibly call him that now, not like this.

  ‘What, you giving up?’ Gareth said, but this was not a pep talk. His voice was filled with horror, disdain.

  ‘I have ruined everything. Mole is dead. Roshan is dead. If the agents outside have their way, the rest of us will die very soon. I think that might’ve been their plan all along.’

  Lewis looked at Jason to deny it, but he had nothing to say. Amy would protect them as best she could, but he didn’t believe the NCA knew the meaning of compassion. Frieda certainly didn’t. This could be their exit strategy.

  ‘Let’s leave him,’ Pansy said, already backing away. ‘Nothing for us here.’

  He pulled on Gareth’s sleeve and gestured to Joe, beckoning him. They came to him without a word, retreating into the darkness of the corridor. Jason could hear them whispering.

  ‘What are our orders?’ Anchor asked.

  ‘I lied to you,’ Martin said, sounding very far away. ‘We were meant to get out of here and then we had…we had to do something terrible. I couldn’t let that happen. I’m not a monster. Whatever you think of me, I’m not that. It was all for her, only for her…’

  Anchor and Jason exchanged glances. If Martin wasn’t able to lead, it would only lead to more chaos. Jason needed to find Dreadlock and persuade him to assume command. He'd never given the impression he wanted it, but he was also a natural leader who people respected. The others would listen to him.

  They backed away from Martin without discussing it, without really deciding. It was a natural repulsion. Jason took the torch with him, leaving their former leader in darkness once more. He led the way out into the corridor, where the others were waiting for him.

  ‘What now?’ Gareth asked.

  ‘Where is Dreadlock?’ Anchor asked. He'd obviously had the same thought Jason had.

  ‘We don’t need him,’ Joe said, quickly. ‘We’ve got this.’

  ‘Got what? No plan, no resources, no nothing.’ Lewis sounded increasingly anxious.

  ‘We could go back upstairs and pretend like nothing has happened,’ Gareth said. ‘Send the agents back down, seal up the walls.’

  ‘We’re not going out like that!’ Pansy yelled. ‘We’re gonna fight ‘til the end!’

  ‘With what?’ Anchor said, voice harsh. ‘They have guns. We have clubs.’

  ‘We could—’

  Jason was interrupted by running footsteps along the corridor. But they weren’t coming towards them. They were there, and then they were fading. Suddenly, Jason realised they were all standing there, all six of them – and only Stoker was guarding the hostages.

  He started to run down the corridor, carrying the light with him. He burst into the room to find the agents gone and Stoker lying on the floor, his face bloody and his legs tied with a belt. Lewis pushed past him and knelt beside Stoker, begging him to wake up. Jason knelt down to untie the belt, calling for Anchor to help him.

  Fire burst across his vision and he threw himself down, over Stoker, trying to get away from the sudden intense heat. Another searing blast of flame erupted next to him, catching the edge of his jeans and singeing them. Without thinking, he rolled Stoker over, moving with him towards the far wall of the room.

  But where was Lewis?

  Jason looked around him, struggling to see through the thickening clouds of black smoke. He ducked down and took a breath near the floor, where the air was still clear, before restarting his search. His eyes were drawn to a flaming computer chair and, pinned beneath it, Lewis was desperately trying to wriggle free.

  Pulling his hoodie sleeves down over his hands, Jason pushed off the chair and helped Lewis up. He pushed him towards Stoker, before looking for a way for them to reach the door. He saw too late that the chair he'd thrown was now spreading its flames to the nearest computer desk, the fire licking along the surface and engulfing the computers.

  The explosion sent him flying backwards, the last thing he saw was a figure in the fire, before everything went dark.

  They were all going to die.

  Lewis watched helplessly as Jason was sent flying across the room, broken glass scattering from the exploded monitor. He hit the wall monitor, cracking it with his hard head. He slumped down the wall, unconscious, his face flecked with blood from a hundred different cuts.

  Ben wouldn’t wake up. The agents had hit him hard, or the smoke was getting to him. Lewis could feel his lungs burning, the hot air and smoke starting to cook them from the inside. His brain wanted to ask questions like ‘who threw the firebombs?’ and ‘why can’t we breathe?’ but Lewis had more important things on his mind. Like surviving long enough to find answers.

  Lewis closed his eyes and concentrated. This was just like planning a robbery. A little more pushed for time, sure, but otherwise just the same. He had to visualise the space, know where all the players were. They only had each other. The only people outside were Bad Guys who wanted to stop them. That was the state of play.

  The room was large, the same size as the mess upstairs. There was one door, no windows. A whole lot of electronics. Lewis counted at least six computers, including the exploded one, and that massive screen that now had a massive crack down it. This room was a hoard of flammable things and would be absolutely airtight with the door closed. Which would be great, except that they were all on the wrong side of it.

  Something was irritating the back of his brain, but the smoke was making it hard to think. He laid himself down on the floor, trying to find some good air beneath the smoke, but it was all pretty smoky. It was nice to lie down though, almost peaceful. At least the smoke would take him before he burned alive.

  He pinched his own arm hard enough to bruise and managed to shake off the lethargy – just a fraction, just enough. He was missing something. Something was missing. What was missing? This high-tech room, merrily burning, and it didn’t even have a tap or a bottle of water. Were you meant to throw water on computers? Probably not.

  How did the firefighters do it then? Did they just wait for it to burn out? Lewis pinched himself again. His thoughts were so slow and stupid. He was smarter than this. He was smart enough to live.

  Fire extinguishers. Special ones, in lots of different colours. A room like this had to have one, or even several, didn’t it? Lewis crawled his way along the floor, dragging his lethargic body towards the corner of the room. He couldn’t see his own hands now and he really wanted to nap. But he had to get to the wall. Find an extinguisher. Hope it was the right one. Figure out how to use it. Then he could nap for a really long time. A really really really…

  He had stopped moving. Lewis shook his head, shook his limbs and moved forward – head-first into the wall. The pain roused him, a spike through his head that told him he had to act or die. He groped his way up the wall and his hand touched metal. A big metal cylinder with a rubber hose. He couldn’t see what colour it was or if there were instructions, but he yanked it away from the wall and stumbled towards the fire.

  The desks were all al
ight now, the computers surrounded by flames – but Lewis didn’t care about that. He found the glow from the middle of the aisle, the fire blocking his escape, and he guided the nozzle towards it. The handle wouldn’t squeeze though, and he fumbled with it, dropping the extinguisher.

  It rolled away – and he threw himself over it, as if it were his beloved dog. He clawed it back, standing up again and swaying drunkenly. He could hear shouting from beyond the fire, but he couldn’t think about that. His fingernails caught on some plastic bit, which came loose in his hand. This time, the handle moved and a cloud of white came out of the end.

  He pointed it at the fire and walked forward, the white fighting against the black, the white floating down onto the flames. Another and another, the fire raging all around, but the steps forward he was taking were moving him further and further along the room. Suddenly the way ahead was clear – but for how long?

  He didn’t have to wait. Someone ran in and grabbed hold of him, dragging him out of the room.

  ‘No!’ He tried to shout, but it was barely audible. ‘Two more!’

  ‘We’ve got them. Come on.’

  He didn’t know the voice. They were herding him down the corridor, through darkness, but he somehow kept his feet under him. Then he was climbing, up a metal ladder, up and away – and he was above ground once more.

  Another pair of hands took hold of him and guided him to a sofa. An oxygen mask was placed over his face and he reached up to hold it, noticing his hands were blackened with soot. The person beside him stayed close and as he turned to see who was tending to him, he realised he knew her. Or, at least, he'd known a younger version of her who'd hated everything and everyone, like all teenagers did.

  ‘Don’t talk,’ Cerys said, forcing a smile. ‘Just breathe.’

  Chapter 53: Smoked Out

  When Lewis came out of the hatch without Jason, Amy could’ve murdered him.

  She forced herself to stay by the computer, to not race towards the fire, towards Jason – because she would only make it worse. She wasn’t strong enough, wasn’t disciplined enough. A little prone to panic.