by KJ Griffin
***
Omar Al-Ajnabi slowly pulled himself to his feet. The floor all around him was festooned with shards of glass from the stained glass windows. He couldn't see anything; the lights were out and a heavy blanket of smoke and dust filled the passageway, choking his breathing.
There was blood trickling from several places on his head, but he staggered forward regardless, with only one thought on his mind: Sophie.
He reached out and groped for the side of the hallway. The walls were still intact, at least for the time being, though he tripped into chandeliers, benches and a statue that had been hurled across the floor.
By the time he reached the Entrance, the floor was clearer, the damage less.
‘Sophie!’ he shouted down the steps, repeating the cry three times in the direction of Westminster Hall. He was trotting now, past the baggage scanner and security clearance. Still no sign. She must have escaped. He would have come across her body by now if she hadn't. His left ear was throbbing; he suspected a perforated eardrum.
Turning around in the doorway, he realized that he was completely unarmed. He had left his MP5K back in St Stephen's Hall. Shit! For the first time he remembered Max. Presumably Clayton had survived the explosion too and would have come round to find his Heckler and Koch somewhere on the floor within easy reach.
The thought of Clayton lying in wait, and above all the thought of Abu Fawaz living long enough to demolish the rest of the Palace sent Al-Ajnabi charging down the hallway back towards the Central Lobby.