A Different War
Chapter 2: Into the Fire
Nick was terrified. He was half carrying, half supporting Iggy as he limped away from the gunfire. An RPG had exploded near them, a piece of shrapnel hitting Ig's knee, meaning he had to limp, slowing their escape. Another piece of shrapnel had hit Nick just above his left eyebrow; now the left side of his face was covered with blood.
"Come on Ig. Not much further now." He pants. Iggy was fading fast, and unless he got him out of there, he probably wouldn't make it.
The pair had been on the run for two days now. Both sides were beginning to lose hope on their survival. Their radios had been damaged beyond repair. The pair of Marines had no way of contacting help. The ammo was running dangerously low, with only two magazines for the M4 and M16A4 between them, three magazines for the Kimber ICQB .45 calibre pistols that both Nick and Iggy have; as well as their bayonets. It was unlikely that they could survive another fire fight.
Finally, Nick spotted a way out of there. Alone, at the side of the road, sat an old, slightly rusted red car. Nick grinned, realising the opportunity. He carried Iggy to the car, and placed him down, so that his back was leaning against one of the back doors. He handed him the M4. "If anyone comes around that corner with a gun, you shoot them, okay Ig?" The response was a drowsy nod. "Just don't walk into the light; I still need you down here." He tries to joke. Ig smiles faintly, before wincing with pain as he shifted his bad leg.
"Fang, if I die here, I want you to tell my girlfriend that I love her." Fang was Nick's nickname, due to his usually silent, loner nature, like a wolf.
"No need man, because you're not going to die. You'll tell her that yourself."
"Damn Fang, you're turning into Rambo, only I can understand you." That raised a nervous laugh from Nick. That conversation did turn a little stereotypical.
Nick smashed the window to the driver's seat out, then reached in and opened the door from the inside. The keys were left in the car, and he picked them up, unlocking the car. He then carried Iggy round to the front passenger's seat, and gently placed him in, although he couldn't help it when Ig winced in pain as he swung his legs in. He closed the door and sat in the driver's seat.
It was that moment they just happened to get spotted by three young boys. They began shouting and running away from them, trying to attract attention. Nick couldn't speak Arabic, but he could give what they were saying a good guess. He moved more frantically after that. "Fang, we need to move." Iggy sounded worried.
"I know, just give me a second." Nick replied anxiously. He inserted the keys and started the engine. It spluttered and died after around three seconds. "Crap!" Nick shouted, hitting the steering wheel. That's when Iggy knew they were in trouble. Fang never swore. Ever. He tried the engine again, thankfully, this time it started.
Then the young boys returned, this time along with a man armed with an AK. Nick hit the accelerator, and the car revved into life. The man raised his rifle and fired, bullets spraying everywhere. The pair ducked behind the dashboard. When the man had fired his entire magazine into them, Iggy popped up and killed him with a single headshot.
Nick shifted gears, the car quickly gaining speed. The narrow alleys and sharp turns weren't helping matters. Every so often Nick would misjudge a turn and slam into the wall. The car was, thankfully, very resilient, despite it's appearance.
They turned a corner, this time not crashing, and sped down a long straight road. It looked like a highway. "Well, I think we're in the clear." Nick finally said, grinning, a strange thing to do for him, from ear to ear. Suddenly, a makeshift roadblock drew closer. It was manned by two men, both wearing local clothes and armed with AK's. As they sped closer, Iggy pulled out his M16A4, and aimed it at them. Time seemed to slow down as the two men aimed their rifles and fired at the car. Iggy fired back, killing one. But the other continued firing, and shattered the windshield. A shard of glass flew into Iggy's eyes, and he immediately began screaming in agony.
"Ah god Fang, my eyes! My eyes, I can't see, ahh, Fang it hurts." He screamed, his voice loud, even above the engine's revs and the gunfire, blood dripping from the wound like water pouring from a jug.
"Just hang on Ig, you'll be fine." Nick tried to reassure him, failing miserably. He put his foot flat on the accelerator and hit the man with a sickening crunch. He rolled over the bonnet and roof, and landed on the floor behind them. Nick checked his rear view mirror, and the man didn't get back up.
The drive continued for another ten minutes. During that time, Nick managed to bandage Iggy's eyes and give him some morphine, after that he fell silent, his heavy breathing the only sign he was still alive. Over the horizon, Nick saw a tank, followed by another. And another. And another. He stopped the car, in case they thought it was a car bomb, and stepped outside. He ran round and picked up Ig, carrying him over his shoulders.
He waved his free arm frantically, trying to get their attention. As the tanks got closer, he realised that they weren't American. A spike of fear shot through him, what if they were enemy? The collum halted and the hatch on the first tank opened. Out of it came a scrawny man, with straw-like auburn hair and piercing blue eyes. He walked over to them.
"All right mate, you look like hammered shit. Need a hand?" His accent was British. Thank god, they were out of that hellhole, but they came out of the south side, the British side, not the north where the Marines were attacking from.
"Thank god you're here man; we could use any help you can give." Nick replied, smiling broadly.
"You the missing yanks then?" The Brit asked. Nick nodded. "Come on, I'll get you both some food and give him," he gestured to Iggy, "some medical treatment. Then I'll get you two out of here. Sound good?" Nick nodded vigorously. The Brit took Iggy and carried him, letting Nick walk freely. He looked up at the harsh Iraqi sun, and smiled.
They were going home.
(Time and Place shift (Tardis Activate)
Max was woken by her phone ringing. Whoever it might be, she thought, is about to get the butt kicking of their life. She picked up the phone and answered in the angriest voice she could make at one in the morning.
"What. Do. You. Want?" It was Ella. She had hardly slept since Iggy went missing, along with a SGT Walker.
"Oh god Max, you won't believe it, turn on CNN now!" She could barely keep the excitement out of her voice. Whatever it was, it was obviously good. Max climbed out of bed, still in the early morning zombie state.
"Ella, do you know what time it is?" She asked whilst walking to her sofa and turning on her TV.
"Doesn't matter, just turn it on!" Max obliged. What she saw made her jaw drop. There was a picture of two Marines, as she recognised the uniform from the last time she saw Ig. They both looked incredibly tired and dirty.
One, who Max noticed was probably incredibly handsome without the dirt, had a cut just above his left eye, and the left side of his face was covered with blood. He had brown eyes so dark they looked black, and short, but unkempt black hair. The other looked thin, with multiple wounds. He had a blood-stained bandage over his eyes, but Max noticed his strawberry blonde hair. That hair was recognisable anywhere to Max. The headline read Missing Marines escaped, both alive. Iggy was alive.
Author Note: Two chapters in two days, I'm on a roll! Please don't expect this speed with me again, as I'll have other things (and stories) to do. I'm sure you're all praying that there isn't another glossary, and your prayers have been answered. Even though Fang and Iggy are out of Iraq, it doesn't mean that the action will stop. If anything, it'll likely be more dangerous than before. Please keep reading this, and review (angry glare for only 1 review) thank you for that Elemental Dragon Slayer and to Kadoodles and Shelsha for either favouriting or following this, it means a lot. That's all from me so, Bradykins out.