Christmas Tango: A Soldiering On Novella

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Christmas Tango: A Soldiering On Novella Page 5

by Aislinn Kearns


  Duncan cleared his throat. “Got cut,” he muttered.

  Mandy swallowed and glanced up at him. There was something different in his expression, something that she’d never seen before when he looked at her. It was deep and unfathomable, but warm. Her mind couldn’t process the expression, but her body seemed to know something she didn’t, because her breath grew short and her skin tightened.

  Duncan seemed like he was about to say something. He hesitated, then tore his gaze from hers and tugged his hand out of her grip. Mandy blinked. The whole moment had lasted barely a second, but held a weight to it that she’d have to analyse later.

  To distract herself, she glanced down at the items Duncan arranged on the sideboard. Inspiration struck.

  She plucked the cigarette lighter from amongst the less useful items and held it up in triumph. Duncan paused, and they shared a look of understanding. A grin spread across her face.

  “How about we smoke ‘em out?” she asked.

  Chapter 9

  “So, it’s go big or go home is it?” Mandy asked as she and Duncan dumped another set of synthetic dust sheets in a pile around the corner from the corridor they were targeting. She kept her voice low, conscious of the men within earshot.

  “We need to create enough smoke to drive them out, but not so much flame that the whole building gets set on fire before we can get out.” He wasn’t looking at her, flicking the lighter thoughtfully as he stared at the pile of fabric.

  “Well?” Mandy demanded. “Is it enough? We have about five minutes before he starts killing people.”

  “It’ll have to do.” He pulled out a half-empty bottle of vodka that they’d found—one of the catering staff had no doubt sequestered it away for a Christmas tipple later. The smell of cheap alcohol assaulted them as he poured it over the fabric. Mandy held back a cough.

  Then, Duncan held the lighter over the soaked sheets. Flames spread across the cheap, white fabric, slowly at first, then with more speed as the fire caught. The edges caught and turned to ash under the onslaught of the flames.

  “Let’s go.” Duncan grabbed her arm and dragged her backwards, out of the path of the billowing smoke.

  “Is it supposed to be that big?” she asked through her coughs as the flames licked the ceiling.

  “Nope,” Duncan muttered, moving her faster.

  Great.

  But it was working. Smoke spread in both directions. Mr. Falcon and his follower were both yelling, easily heard even over the roar of the flames.

  “We need to get those people out!” Mandy raised her voice so that Duncan could hear her over the loud woosh of the flames truly catching.

  “We need to get out of the building,” Duncan yelled back. “It’s spreading too fast.”

  He tried to tug her away, out towards the exit, but Mandy held firm. “We can’t let them burn to death.”

  Duncan hesitated. She could see the war of indecision in his eyes.

  Eventually, he let out a breath and Mandy knew she’d won. “I’ll draw Mr. Falcon and his lackey away from you, and keep them occupied. You get the hostages out.” He pulled out some keys he must have taken from one of the bad guys. One of his big hands curled around the back of hers, while the other gently placed the keys in her palm and closed her fingers over them. His gaze was intent, his hands still in hers.

  Then, without warning, he bent down and pressed his lips firmly over hers.

  Mandy let out a noise of surprise, even as Duncan slipped a hand around her waist and pulled her to him. His lips were softer than she’d expected. And sweet, even as his kiss imparted a desperation that it took Mandy a moment to comprehend.

  He didn’t expect to come back to her.

  She gasped, and he flicked his tongue against hers. With one last, hard kiss, he let her go.

  Then, he stepped back, out of her grasp, and disappeared into the smoke. The whole incident had lasted mere seconds, but it felt like her whole world had shifted and changed in that instant.

  Mandy blinked, trying to come to terms with what had just happened, but no answers eventuated. Now wasn’t the time. She had to get those people out.

  Mandy ran to the corridor, careful to avoid the areas with too much smoke or flame. She stayed low where she could, breathing into the scrap of fabric she’d pilfered. She reached the corridor, finding it mercifully clear. Duncan had done as he’d promised. Her hands shook as she tried to insert the key into the lock, but eventually the first door sprang free.

  Jerry appeared first. “This is what you call a rescue?” he asked, the words ending on a violent cough.

  Manuel was next. “What have you done to my building?” Distraught tears ran down his face, and a pang of guilt tugged at her. But she didn’t have time to indulge in that now.

  “Quickly now. There are more doors to open.”

  They filed out, and Mandy began working on the next door. She made quick work of the locks, until everyone was gathered in the hall, eyes watering from the smoke. Charles had made a break for it the instant his door had been opened. Despite everything, she hoped he’d be okay. She wondered if she’d ever see him again.

  “This way!” she called, and began to lead the remaining people outside. The emergency exit was over the other side of the building, away from the spreading flames. She led them in that direction, towards safety, even as the flames followed them.

  All three floors were affected by the fire now. The flames and smoke filled the corridors all down the west side of the building. They were growing ever closer at an alarming pace. But Mandy stayed calm, despite her thundering heart, as she directed everyone into the concrete fire escape at a measured pace. It was cooler than the rest of the building, having mostly avoided the smoke and fire. Emergency lights—probably powered by a generator—flooded the stairwell with a dull light, allowing everyone to pick their way down the stairs without incident.

  Mandy brought up the rear. She gave a final glance back. Where was Duncan? Surely he wouldn’t still be in the crumbling, fire-wrecked side of the building? She swallowed, and started down the stairs.

  She shouldn’t have let him leave her. That kiss should have been her clue that he fully intended to die if it gave her a chance to save these people. It was just like him—self-sacrificing to the last. After all his bluster about getting her out of the building, it was clear that he never intended to leave these people behind. She should have trusted him. Now, he was in awful danger.

  Mandy burst through the lower doors of the fire escape onto an alley that ran alongside the building. The crowd dashed towards the main road. Flames poured out the windows, reaching for the sky. Glass shattered, raining down on them. Mandy flinched as a small piece cut her.

  Mandy herded the stragglers out onto the street, avoiding the glass that littered the alley as best she could in her stockinged feet. She kept turning back, expecting to see Duncan following them. But the alley was empty.

  A lump of worry settled in her throat, her heart pounding for him. But she couldn’t think of it now.

  A fire crew had arrived and were working at putting the flames out. Huge streams of water were jetting out hoses and smacking into the building high above them. A man, dressed from head to toe in the fireman’s uniform, came over to her.

  “Is there anyone else in the building?” he asked, even as one of his colleagues directed the crowd towards ambulances waiting in a safe zone further down the street.

  “My…my,” Mandy hesitated, not sure what to call Duncan with the memory of his kiss still lingering on her lips. “My partner. He’s still in there,” Mandy choked, the worry almost overwhelming her. Tears born of smoke and exhaustion sprang to her eyes, and she blinked them away.

  The fireman gave her a sincere look, his brow tugged down into a worried frown. “We’ll do our best to save your boyfriend,” he told her.

  Mandy didn’t bother to correct him.

  Chapter 10

  Heat scorched him. His eyes burned. And slippery Mr. Falco
n was nowhere to be seen.

  Duncan had led the ringleader on a merry chase through the building, trying to keep him away from Mandy and the crowd of people she was so desperate to save. Duncan wasn’t sure how desperate the man was for his money, whether he might turn back and try to find the group. Duncan couldn’t take that chance.

  But now the man had disappeared between one turn and the next. Duncan vacillated, even as the smoke surrounded him, making it difficult to think.

  He had to get out of the building. It was no longer safe. He just had to hope that Mandy had got out safely. If not, he would have to come back for her.

  He checked his remaining gun and was annoyed to see it only had three bullets. Practically useless. He ditched the extra weight. That left him with just a knife.

  Pain shot through his leg as he made his way to the fire escape as quickly as he could manage. The muscles were collapsing under his weight, having been pushed well beyond their limit.

  Still, as long as Mandy was safe, it would all be worth it. It was stupid of him to have kissed her. He couldn’t even say he why he’d done it. But in that moment, the thought that he might not see her again had been too much, and he’d just had to kiss her in case he never had another chance.

  But if he made it out alive, he’d have some explaining to do. To both her and himself.

  The fire escape was mercifully clear of the flames that were eating the rest of the building. But not for long, if the heat radiating from the walls was anything to go by. Duncan breathed in as much of the clearer air as he could before starting down the stairs, his leg protesting with every step.

  He was on the second floor landing when Mr. Falcon burst through the door. Both men stopped, locking eyes. Duncan considered putting aside their differences long enough for them both to get out the building, but Mr. Falcon clearly had other ideas.

  “You fuckwit!” He yelled as he charged towards Duncan. “You ruined all our plans.” He slammed Duncan against the wall, knocking the breath out of him. Breathing the carbon monoxide had weakened him, so he waited before fighting the guy off, seeing what might happen.

  “To be fair,” Duncan told him. “They were pretty stupid plans.”

  Enraged, the man drew back a fist. Duncan caught the swing before it could plow into his face. He twisted the man’s wrist, wrenching him around so he faced the ground at an uncomfortable angle. Mr. Falcon cried out in pain as his shoulder popped.

  Normally Duncan would knee or kick someone in the face in that position, but he didn’t trust his leg—and was in fact using the wall to partially prop himself up. Instead, he elbowed Falcon in the back of the neck.

  The man dropped to one knee. Duncan loomed over him, deciding what to do next. But he wasn’t fast enough. The man lashed out, catching Duncan’s bad leg with a brutal fist. It gave out, sending Duncan to his knees with a hard thump. Pain echoed through him. His leg shook with strain.

  They were level now, with Duncan having the advantage of a few inches over his opponent. He headbutted the guy, sending him reeling. Then, before Mr. Falcon could recover, Duncan wrapped his hands around the man’s throat and squeezed.

  Mr. Falcon’s eyes bulged as his air was cut off. His hands battered ineffectually at Duncan’s iron grip. Duncan squeezed tighter.

  But reason returned to Mr. Falcon’s gaze and he reached for Duncan’s eyes, jabbing his thumbs into the eyeball. Duncan twisted away from the onslaught, his grip loosening.

  Mr. Falcon threw himself backwards, panting. Duncan blinked as his eyes readjusted to functioning status.

  Duncan glanced up to see flames licking the floor above them. The fire had spread fast. He had to get out.

  Duncan pulled himself toward the staircase. He’d crawl out if he had to, leaving Mr. Falcon there. But the man had other ideas. He gripped Duncan’s bad leg at the knee, digging his fingers into the sensitive flesh. Duncan cried out in pain, blackness flashing at the edge of his vision.

  He kicked out blindly, his good leg connecting with what he hoped was Mr. Falcon’s face. The man grunted, his fingers loosening their hold.

  “Can we not get the fuck out of here first, and continue this later?” Duncan gritted out. He pushed himself into a kneeling position, his bad leg out straight beside him.

  “Fuck you,” the man replied. Duncan took that as a ‘no’.

  “Fine.” Duncan swung his arm around, backhanding the man with a closed fist. Mr. Falcon reeled, and spat out a blood-covered tooth.

  Duncan used the opportunity to pull out the knife that he’d strapped to his back. There was a glint, and Duncan realised his opponent had done the same. They sat there, on the warm concrete landing, the flames gaining on them every second, and held their knives in each other’s direction.

  Sweated beaded Duncan’s brow. He coughed. “We’ve got to get out,” he choked.

  “I’m a dead man anyway,” Mr. Falcon told him, then struck, his knife digging into Duncan’s leg. His good leg. Thankfully it hadn’t seemed to hit anything vital, but Christ it hurt.

  “Motherfucker,” Duncan said, new agony coursing through him. But he couldn’t let that stop him. Instead, while Mr. Falcon still held the handle of the knife that was buried deep in his thigh, Duncan stabbed him, right in the neck.

  Mr. Falcon reared back. The surprise in his eyes cleared within seconds, replaced by amusement, even as blood dripped over his clutching hands.

  “My employer will find you and kill you,” he gurgled as he slumped backwards.

  “Let them try,” Duncan muttered, even as the light left Mr. Falcon’s eyes, leaving the reflection of the fire as the only source of life.

  Finally. The flames were so hot they were burning him even though they hadn’t quite reached him. But he knew that Mr. Falcon’s body would soon be consumed by the encroaching fire. He pulled himself over to the staircase and practically threw himself down in a controlled fall.

  He made it down to the next landing with an extra collection of bruises. He felt faint, and knew that he’d lost far too much blood. But he couldn’t stop.

  A loud crack sounded above him, and Duncan winced. The building was collapsing. He didn’t have long before—

  A second crack echoed above the sound of the flames, even closer. Duncan chanced a glance upward. His heart leapt into his throat as he realised that the floor above hung by a thread. A piece of wall bulged alarmingly, throbbing with heat.

  An explosion sounded, and Duncan threw himself down the stairs without thought to the extra bruises, even as pieces of burning building rained down on the second floor landing. His head smashed into the wall of the floor below, and a dark haze obscured his vision.

  The heavy thump of bricks was the last thing he heard before it all went black.

  Chapter 11

  Mandy finished telling the cops her version of the hostage situation inside and wandered back over to the group. Some of those that weren’t injured or suffering smoke inhalation had decided to stay and watch the proceedings at a safe distance. Others had rushed home to loved ones. A few days out from Christmas, and this madness had to happen.

  Mandy waited for Duncan.

  He had to be all right. The firemen said they’d find him. She knew it was an empty promise, but she had to hold onto it.

  She wrapped the paramedic’s blanket tighter around her shoulders, flexed her toes in the thick woollen socks the same EMT had given her when she insisted on staying, and huddled next to Jenny. Her ash-stained face stared up at the building with anxious eyes.

  “The firemen said that the buildings next door won’t catch alight. They’ve contained the worst of the flames. It’ll be okay,” Mandy tried to assure her.

  Jenny turned to Mandy, bleakness hovering over her features. “I hope so,” she murmured. Her gaze was drawn back to the building, the flickering light of the flames playing over her face.

  After a moment of hesitation, Mandy also turned back to the fiery building. Duncan had to be all right.

  A
fireman burst out of the side door, a person slung over one shoulder. Jenny gasped beside her, straining forward against the temporary barrier to get a better look.

  But it wasn’t a person after all—it was a body. The moment Mandy saw Klaus’ blond hair she sighed in relief. Jenny beside her let out a similar sound, but hers came out more like a frustrated sob.

  Something occurred to Mandy, a horrible thought. “Who are you waiting for?” she asked softly.

  Jenny swallowed and glanced her way. “No one,” she muttered, and turned to walk away.

  Mandy gripped her upper arm, holding her in place. “Somebody important to you is still in there, don’t deny it. Who is it? Mr. Falcon?”

  Tears sprang to her eyes. “His name is Tim,” she choked out. Jenny crumpled in on herself, sagging at the knees. She would have collapsed if Mandy hadn’t supported her, sitting her on a barrel being used to hold up the barrier.

  A swell of sympathy rose within Mandy for the grieving, pitiable woman before her.

  “How did you get involved in this mess?” Mandy asked.

  Jenny gave a half-hearted shrug. “I met Tim at a coffee shop. We fell in love almost instantly. But his bosses started asking him to do bad things. Things he didn’t want to do.”

  Mandy didn’t believe for a second that Tim had been reluctant to do any of the awful things he’d done tonight. He’d obviously manipulated this poor woman for his own ends.

  “Why did you help him, Jenny?”

  Jenny glanced up, tears tracking through the ash on her face. “I didn’t.” She hesitated. “Not at first, anyway.”

  “Why did you do it?”

  She lurched forward, clutching Mandy’s hand. “They were going to kill him. I had to help him.”

  Mandy didn’t yet have the heart to break the woman’s illusion. “So you gave him the guest list.”

  Jenny nodded. “And how much they’d pre-bid on some of the fundraiser items. To give him an indication of how much money everyone had.”

 

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