Edit:- My thanks to the guest reviewer for pointing out the paragraph issue, I hope this helps. :)
As we hit the water time seems to slow around us. I feel a body thump against my side as I desperately try and keep myself upright. The Secretary. I feel bile rise in my throat, as his last words echo in my conscious thoughts; 'The President has initiated Ghost Protocol…' It seems impossible; despite the fact that the car is rapidly sinking towards the bed of a freezing Moscow river, I still can't bring myself to believe that everything I've done, everything I've ever worked for is… gone. No longer exists.
From the moment the first shot rang out; right up until the second we crashed into the river events seemed to occur so rapidly that I barely had time to think. I had panicked- the first shot had killed the driver and we were swerving rapidly out of control, and it was all I could do to keep myself out of the line of fire, let alone my boss. Yet still, I had tried. But… I close my eyes; and I see him. Head tilted back, mouth slack, eyes wide with shock… Crimson of fresh blood slowly running down his face from the bullet-hole in the centre of his forehead- a fine mist of the same settling on his face, on my hand where it rests on his shoulder. This seems to stretch on forever, but it is merely seconds later that my eyes fly open as we collide into the riverbed with a bone-rattling thud, icy water rushing in; attempting to fill the car. I press my hands against the roof in a futile attempt to create more breathing space and, for a moment we are totally submerged before the car settles.
The small pocket of air re-forms and I tilt my head; pushing myself up to draw in desperate breaths of the damp air. The agent's head breaks the surface; through some sort of haze I hear him telling me to remain where I am. I automatically bite out a snappy retort; barely registering what I'm saying. As I wait for the agent to return, I take a moment to organise my thoughts. I take a deep breath, the tangy scent of copper merges with the dankness of the water to form a truly nauseating scent. It feels like my stomach is turning somersaults, and it lurches when my companion suddenly resurfaces. He puts a hand on my shoulder, and informs me that it's safe for us to exit the vehicle. Simultaneously, we inhale deeply and plunge under the water; the agent taking the lead. Almost immediately it turns out that the judgement of safe was an infinity off the mark, as a hail of bullets perforate the water, causing dirt to billow up in plumes, further obscuring us in the already murky water. We both abruptly pull back and drag ourselves back into the relative safety of the ruined car. I feel myself shaking; not only from the frigid temperature of the water, but also from fear- my heart pounding loud enough that I can barely make out anything more. My head once more breaches the surface; as I feel the tiny glimmer of hope I had been holding onto get snuffed out. We're trapped, with no possible way of escape. No matter how hard I think, running through potential escape routes in my head, I can't think of any way out that doesn't end with one or both of us dead- whether that be from gunfire, drowning or pneumonia.
I feel hysteria building inside of me, and start taking long, deep breaths in an attempt to combat it. Slowly, oh so slowly, I feel my heart rate slow, my shaky breathing steady. I manage to achieve a semblance of calm, although I feel anything but. I turn to my companion, who has remained in silent contemplation since he resurfaced. I may not be able to see a viable way out; but he may yet have a solution. A solution where no-one else has to die. /p