Chapter 9

Carlos and Twitch barely made it to the border with a minute to spare before a vehicle came speeding towards them.

The windows had been shot out, whether on purpose or by enemy fire, Carlos did not care because at that moment three insurgents were currently leaning out of those windows and firing automatic weapons at them.

They did not have time to think that they might be killed here, their bodies were hard-wired to act first and then react second.

Everyone instantly moved into position.

Carlos placed himself behind a stationary vehicle to the side of the road and shot at the vehicle still heading towards them, crashing through bikes and scooters which had been left in the road.

I guess Jules miscalculated this one, Carlos thought, but somehow that didn't seem right either.

Where were they going? There isn't any way out here.

All Carlos could see were rows and rows of houses and streets which inevitably wound back towards the centre.

Somebody called for back-up over the radio, stating that they had the vehicle in their sights when the insurgent in the back seat got clipped with a bullet, tearing through his neck.

Not having the time to look into it now, Carlos aimed up the driver and fired but the vehicle was moving too fast and his bullets simply ricocheted off of the bonnet.

The vehicle was almost in line with his position behind the car.

Taking his chance, Carlos stood up straight and aimed his rifle.

For a split second, Carlos and the vehicle were perfectly in line with each other that Carlos could see the side-profiles of each occupant, the driver closest to himself.

The insurgent didn't see him until it was too late.

Carlos aimed at the driver and shot, repeatedly.

The first two bullets found their way into the driver's head, whilst a third blasted through his neck and hit the passenger in his chest.

The driver's body slumped against the wheel, his foot pressing into the accelerator, forcing the car off the road and into the side of a building.

Approaching from all angles, they surrounded the vehicle and peered in through the windows.

Carlos stared at the two front seat occupants. Neither of them were Farhat, "Twitch?"

Twitch heard the question in his voice and he reached into the back seat and turned the insurgent over to see his face.

Carlos watched in hesitation as he looked up and shook his head, "It's not him."

"What?" Carlos stepped forward and looked for himself.

"Well, where is he then?" Someone asked in the background, whilst someone was calling over the radio for an update.

"Oh God," Carlos suddenly realised what had happened, "She was right. Jules was goddman right!"

"What? What do you mean?"

Carlos looked at the others, "Farhat isn't here. This was a diversion!"

He saw the moment when everyone's eyes seemed to light up, as if someone had flipped on a switch inside their heads.

Already running, Carlos began to scream into his headset, "It was a diversion! Farhat is at the southern exit! Send everyone now!"

* * *

"It was a diversion! Farhat is at the southern exit! Send everyone now!" Carlos's voice filled her ear.

Jules winced as another round of gunfire erupted against the front of the building wall behind her.

"Yeah, no shit!" Jules shouted, making herself small as pieces of brick and dust blew up behind her.

Jules had never made it to the rooftop. She made it to the third floor when she heard the sound of a engine being taken to its limit.

Marc had been the first to shoot, and Jules second as she crouched beside a window and shot down from above.

Despite not being on the roof, Jules still had a fairly good vantage point of the road as she peered down and saw the two vehicles that had been forced to stop when Marc detonated the claymore they had set up earlier near the road.

It had been Jules's second indication that they had run out of time and she abandoned all thoughts of getting to the rooftop in time.

That was almost five minutes ago and they were trying to pin them down with gunfire, keeping them there until support arrived.

Jules began to call for air support but she froze, remembering what had happened last time she had requested such support.

She knew this was different; she knew this wasn't covert ops and that they were sanctioned to be here but still, there was still that niggling doubt in the back of her mind and the paralysing fear of what might happen if she did.

She could not lose Marcus like she had lost Evans and Jackson.

The gunshots suddenly stopped behind her so she got to her knees and began to fire out of the window, aiming through the scope at the insurgents below her.

Jules cursed General Ridgeway for not allowing her to be reposted as a sniper, and thus being left with a basic rifle.

The bullets came firing out of her rifle, one after the other, as she placed three in one man's chest when he couldn't' dive behind the car fast enough, and two in another man's leg which was stuck out to the side.

She pressed the trigger again but nothing happened. All she heard was a soft click as she ran out bullets.

As realisation dawned on her, Jules crashed back to the ground and covered her head as their semi-automatic rifles started up again.

Hitting the release button her rifle, the empty magazine clattered to the floor as she dug another out of her pocket and locked it into place.

She hit the button on her headset, "Where the hell is that support!?"

A few seconds later she got a reply from a marine in another unit, deeper inside the city, "Farhat set a bomb to explode. We have to go around! ETA ten minutes!"

"Ten minutes?" Jules rested her head back against the wall, speaking to herself, "We're going to be dead in ten minutes."

Opening her eyes, Jules looked down at her rifle when she caught sight of the bulging pocket on her vest.

When she remembered what was resting inside of it, waiting patiently to be used, it brought a wide grin to her lips.

Ripping open the Velcro pouch, Jules dug inside and enclosed her fingers around the cold, hard shell, pulling it out into the open.

She had been waiting years to use one of these.

Jules reached back up and pressed her radio, "Hey Marc," Jules called casually, "Fire in the hole."

She had always wanted to say that.

Praying he had heard her and taken cover, Jules waited for the next break in the gunfire and pulled the safety pin from the grenade.

Holding the handle down against the body, Jules got to her feet, aimed, and threw the grenade.

Not waiting to see where it landed, Jules dropped back to the floor and covered her ears.

She heard the men shouting before another explosion shook the foundation of the buildings, cutting their conversation short.

The smell of smoke and burning fuel filled her nostrils.

"Jules? "Marc came over the radio, his voice filled with unease.

Jules coughed against the smoke that was billowing up from the street below and filling her window, "Yeah, I'm here."

"Good shot," he told her over the radio.

Hopeful, Jules got to her feet and looked back out of the window, down to where a small plume of smoke was coming from the first vehicle.

It seemed as if the grenade had landed straight into the jeep's back seat, taking the petrol tank with it.

The smoke was thick, she could not see through it to tell if anyone had been left alive, when movement from the top of the road filled her eyes.

Looking up the road, Jules's took a deep breath when she saw three other marine units heading their way.

Jules lifted her hand to press her radio to tell Marc the good news when he cut in first.

"-JULES!" Marc's voice shouted into her ear, his voice filled with panic, "GET OUT OF THERE NOW!"

"What?" Jules frowned, trying to peer through the smoke to see what had gotten him worried.

Surely it wouldn't matter, the other units would be upon them in a few seconds-

Jules's entire body froze when the smoke lessened and she could see the outline of a man stood a small distance away from her building.

Her eyes squinted as she tried to pick out what was resting upon his shoulder; he did not look like a marine.

A second later she realised what it was, just as she spotted Marc running along the footpath below her.

Marc confirmed it in her ears, "RPG!"

Jules gasped, her body coming to life again, as she turned and began to run.

She didn't make it five steps before the RPG was launched.

*

Jules struggled to breath as dust and smoke lined her throat, suffocating her, clinging to her lungs until each breath she took sent a flaring pain across her chest.

Her mouth was dry as she coughed, her eyes squinting open, as she remained where she was.

Her memories were distorted, she could only remember- RPG!

Jules began to panic, her breathing pitched, and she tried to move but she was being crushed. Pure fear coursed through her veins.

She had to bite down on her tongue to keep from screaming. She didn't know where the terrorist was, he could be right above her and she wouldn't know.

Forcing herself to calm down, she focused on her arms and legs.

Slowly reaching out her arms, her left shoulder protested in agony until a scream was torn from her throat.

Unable to move her left arm, Jules began to shift at the rocks with her right until she had created an opening, a soft light filtering through.

As she peered up, seeing the tips of buildings but mainly the sky, she had not remembered it being this late in the afternoon.

How long had she been there?

Shaking her head clear, Jules felt a fierce pounding at the back of her skull.

Reaching up, Jules gritted her teeth in pain as she pressed her hand against her hair, her fingers coming away wet.

When she pulled them back, dust falling around her as she moved, her eyes widened when she saw what was staining her fingers.

Blood.

Her eyes fluttered shut as a great pain enveloped her mind, forcing her body to become immobile momentarily. She could not move, she felt like she could barely breathe as she gasped for air.

"-Reynolds!? Reynolds!"

Over the high-pitched whining in her ears, Jules could hear someone calling for her as if they were shouting down a long tunnel.

She needed to get out of here.

Forcing her eyes open despite the water that was streaming down her face, Jules pulled herself up through the small opening she had made and looked around at the heap of rubble she was bathed in.

It felt as if she was in the middle of a rubble desert, completely alone, but she knew that wasn't true. She had heard her name being called.

Trying to remember what had happened, Jules remembered seeing the RPG and then- Marc! He had been on the street below her.

"Marc?" Jules spoke for the first time, "Marc!"

Her body came engulfed with a coughing fit.

She needed to find Marc.

"Julia Reynolds!" That voice had returned again, distorted and strange, "Reynolds, for God's sake, answer me! Reynolds!"

Fumbling around, Jules grasped her fingers around her rifle which still hung from her neck, feeling immediately better.

As she gazed down at the radio she spotted something black clatter against her chest, hanging from a wire.

It was her radio.

Reaching out with trembling fingers, Jules pressed the ear piece against her ear but she could hear nothing except a high pitch noise.

Wincing, she let the radio drop back down again, useless.

Her brows furrowed together in confusion as she heard that voice again, calling for her to report back and Jules knew she should. She knew she had to let them know she was alive and where to find her.

But she couldn't. She couldn't seem to get her lips to move because- Jules swallowed uncomfortably. She didn't recognise the voice.

Urgency set into her bones and Jules scrambled to her feet, stumbling out of the remnants of the building and into the street, holding her left arm steady.

She thought it was broken.

The heat was suffocating and the sun was blinding but as she gazed around her, turning in a circle, Julia began to truly panic. Where was she?!

"Reynolds!"

This wasn't England. The streets were lined with three-storey grey buildings, burnt out cars and dead bodies littered the street beside her.

Julia didn't feel right as she reached out a hand to steady herself but she found nothing there. Collapsing to her knees, Julia caught sight of the gun that lay in her grasp.

Throwing it away from her, Julia panicked. What was she doing with a gun?

But her thoughts were pushed aside as her stomach began to convulse, her throat working against her as she vomited on the ground.

"Reynolds!"

Looking down at where she vomited, Jules frowned before she gazed up at Marcus rushing to her side, blood seeping down the side of his face. How had she gotten out here?

"Where's my rifle?" Jules whispered when she spotted it a few feet away from her.

Crawling around the mess she had made, Jules clasped her fingers around her rifle and stumbled to her feet.

Marcus caught her when she threatened to drop again.

"We need medevac!" Marcus called into the radio as he pulled them into a secluded doorway, resting his hand against her cheek.

"Jules, speak to me," Marcus shouted through the whining in her ears, his eyes searching hers fiercely, "Reynolds!"

"I'm- I'm fine," Jules leaned forward, brushing off his concern, when she blinked rapidly, not sure what was happening to her.

"Mar- Marc?" Jules whispered as darkness began to creep in from the corners of her eyes, her own voice sounding strange to her.

"Jules? Jules!" Marcus was calling, urging her to stay awake, but Jules could not withstand it any longer.

Her eyes closed.

When they reopened again, she was staring up at the underside of a man's chin, the sky seeming to bob and weave as she went along.

"Jules, breathe!" Someone was screaming down at her and she lifted her head away from the sky and saw Carlos Ramirez holding the bottom of the stretcher.

His body was covered in a thick layer of brick dust from the explosion, making it hard for Jules to pick him out but as a fierce pounding began in her temple, a terrifying thought entered her head.

"M- Marc!?" Jules tried to speak but her voice came out quiet and raspy, her throat working against her.

He had been with them in that explosion. Where was he!?

"Don't worry about that," Carlos told her, his eyes looking up to see where they were going, "Don't worry about anything, just focus on breathing!"

Jules stared up at him with fear, why wouldn't he tell her where Marc was?

"Marc!?" She asked, stretching out her hand to Carlos who was stood outside of the aircraft looking in as she was slid into place upon the helicopter.

"Don't worry about Marc," Carlos put on a reassuring face but it did nothing to ease the storm raging in her heart, "You're going home!"

Her arm was yanked back across her body as the pilot took off, exfiltrating her from the city.

She wanted to tell them to go back down, to find Marc, but suddenly she felt a small scratch at the crease of her elbow and a few seconds later everything started to go dim.

It was as if someone was turning out the lights very slowly.

Jules tried to fight it; tried to stay awake long enough to find Marc but as her body grew heavy she knew she was fighting a losing battle.

Her head lolled to the side and in those last few moments before she lost consciousness, as the wind rushed through her hair, she saw them; two birds flying high in the clouds.

They seemed oblivious to the world that was being blown up directly beneath them.

This image of peace left a smile on Jules's lips long after she had succumbed to her injuries.

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