4
А crushing blow caught Ed in the cheekbone, jerking his head sideways and almost knocking him to the ground. He just barely managed to stay on his feet.
For a split second, the blow stunned him. This made it possible for his attacker to pounce on Ed and grab the back of his collar, with powerful throw, slammed his face into the nearest wall, pressing down on his back. And immediately a huge hand like a vise secured him in a head lock, blocking air and depriving him the possibility of uttering any sound, except for a weak wheeze.
Stunned, his movements constrained , Lane tried to twist free of the tight grip of his attacker but pinned to the wall he didn't have many options.
He was able to lower his arm and slide his Glock for the holster on his hip. But immediately, the attacker's hand gripped Ed's hand and hit it several times against the wall next to his face. Shocked by pain in possibly broken fingers, Ed dropped the gun.
The grip on his throat intensified and he reflexively grabbed the bandit's arm, desperately seeking to ease the pressure on his neck. He felt his headset fall from his ear.
But even if the headset wasn't dropped - he absolutely couldn't speak now, his jaw was clenched as he desperately strained all his muscles, preventing the attacker from crush his throat and trying to take at least a small breath. His eyes closed tightly, his hands fiercely gripped the arm currently cutting off his air.
The man's arm was like a steel band, never moving from it's crushing grip even as Ed's hands tried to pry it away from his throat, fingernails digging into the man's sleeve, but the thick material offered no purchase.
Huge muscled bulk pressed him into the wall, wringing his head back and choking him.
Very soon, Ed began to feel the surrounding sounds disappear, being replaced with loud pulsating beats in his skull, as his brain was deprived of blood flow and oxygen.
His vision was beginning to blur, the dangerous darkness gathering at the edges. Then, with his last strength, Ed leaned slightly forward, as far as the space in front of his face allowed, forcing the attacker to repeat his movement, and then sharply with the full force threw his head back, smashing the back of his head into man's face.
The grip on his throat loosened and Ed, using this, released one hand and with the force threw his elbow back, hitting the attacker in the stomach and how he completely loosened the hold, finally getting free and turning around to face the attacker.
Through blurred vision, Ed caught sight of a bulky, strong figure, low forehead, small angry eyes, thick dark bristle covering his face and the blood flowing liberally from his nose. "Damn, this Neanderthal is the "skinny"? flashed in his head.
Coughing and swallowing the air, holding one hand on his throat, Ed stepped toward his Glock where it was laying on the ground, staggering and barely discerning it with his blurry vision.
He bent down to pick it up. But the attacker did not give him that chance.
A moment later the bastard crashed into him, before Ed was able to regain control of his shocked body.
Unable to resist, Ed fell back, hit the ground hard. A huge weight fell upon him from above, pressing him into the cold mud, knee into his stomach holding him lying down.
He saw a clenched fist, raised over him. With his reaction still slightly slowed down, he missed a beat, feeling the taste of blood in his mouth from split lips.
Even stunned by blows, pinned to the ground, he continued to fight, being able to return a few blows from his untenable position. Yet the guy easily dodged and blocked most of his punches.
Ed was a good fighter, strong, agile, skilled. But now the huge size of his opponent and his position gave him a distinct advantage. Ed just could not throw him off, feeling as if he is struggling with a grizzly.
He was able to block one of the attacker's hands, but suddenly the guy pressed his second hand against Ed's throat again, still painfully aching from the last attack. His first reaction was to gasp-and he panicked when he couldn't.
Panic gave him new strength. He clawed at fingers that were clutching his throat, managing to release them enough to get a little way for air, but getting only the tiniest gasps of air.
He continued to resist. But how long can he hold on? Where was Sam?
...
Leaving Ed, Sam quickly led the detainee to the exit holding his shoulder, listening to the voices of his team in his headset. The operation was over, and that meant the this damn shift finally coming to it's end
"About time" he sighed in relief, went out to the squad cars, transferring the guy to police officer. Then he cursed softly, realizing that now he have to go back to Ed and continue searching for the last member of the gang. And this endless damned shift will not end as long as they do not find him. Damn Ed with his stubbornness and desire to always do everything perfectly! The man can not stand to lose. Perfect soldier, the perfect team leader, perfect sniper, perfect family man ... Is there something where Ed Lane is not perfect? Sam sighed, tired and irritated, but also feeling a respect and something like an admiration to his older colleague.
"Ed, come in? I'm on my way back," he said in his radio. He didn't hear the answer and going to call him again but at that moment a sudden loud exclamation of surprise behind him distracted him, making him stop and turn around. He saw his teammates approach him, looking with amazement at blond officer, evenly covered with mud all over.
"You missed some good fun, staying in the truck," he smiled sourly at the laughing Jules and Spike.
"Now I understand why you didn't want to be paired with the Ed," Greg said with a sympathetic smile. "There's a spare set of uniforms in the SUV."
"It's useless." Sam shook his head. "Ed's waiting for me back there. Would you like to join me?" he looked at the Jules.
"Oh, mud baths are not included in the list of my preferences, Sam! Have fun out there yourself, boys!" saying this, Jules took a cloth and began to gently wipe Sam's dirty face.
"Jules, I have to go," he whispered, but not moving, gladly taking her care.
"In a second," she said softly, smiling. When finished, she cupped his cheek in her hand and Sam allowed himself to melt into her soft touch for a moment. He sighed, enjoying this brief seconds of rest before returning to the dirty passages.
He watched as Greg stepped aside, enthusiastically talking to Spike about something and looking at the small quadrocopter. It was obvious that Spike is very proud of his gadget, a broad smile never left his face. Sam frowned. Damn, why Spike didn't go with him to look for that "skinny" now? He looked too happy ... and too clean in Sam opinion .
"I'm glad Ed has left you in the truck. I stink, as slop rat now, don't I?" he said quietly and turning off his radio for a moment. He leaned close to Jules, inhaling her scent ,"When we get back home... Don't hope that you'll escape sharing a shower," he finished with a big smile and turning his radio on before moved away from the slightly reddened Jules.
Seeing in bottle of water in Leah's hands, Sam held out his hand, asking silently for the bottle. Then rinsed his mouth where the sand still crackled on his teeth after his fall in the mud.
In a few gulps, he greedily drank remainder of the water in the bottle. Just one second, and he will go back...
He was ready to hear the demanding harsh voice of his team leader at any moment in his headset, irritated of his delay. But the radio was silent. It means there is no need to rush headlong back.
Hell, if they split up, as he suggested from the beginning, they could now go home - he sighed tiredly and disappointedly, looking back at Jules.
"Officers," a young police officer called to them, approaching them. He led the youth who was still wrapped in the emergency blanket.
"This guy wants to tell you something. Says it's important," he nodded to the detainee.
The youth looked at Sam nervously, shifted his feet.
"Officer ... It's about Skinny..." he hesitated a bit, but then his burst and he quickly began to speak.
"Look, Skinny, it's nickname. Just kidding. He's about 20 old, but he's a really strong man! He's been working as Stan's bodyguard. Engaged in Martial Arts, something else, I don't know. But he's dumb, just muscle! And he is absolutely crazy! Nutcase! That your bald man, I don't think ... he's not very big ..."
The guy has not finished speaking, as Greg and Sam began calling Ed on headset "Ed? ... Eddie! ... Ed, status!"
They got nothing back but a static...
Silently, they looked at each other. Greg, seeing as Sam suddenly went pale, felt the terror gripped his gut. "Eddie, no..."
Sam, not waiting for the command, struggled back where he left Ed. The others followed after him.
When he reached the spot where he left Ed, Sam stood still, panting. He looked around quickly, thinking in what direction could Ed head to. But there were many options.
Run the rest.
"Sam? Where?" Greg barked at the young officer.
"Boss, this is the place where I had left him! Ed!" Sam shouted desperately, looking around and listening.
Nothing.
...
Ed's struggles become frenzied and he almost slipped out of the tight grip, like a huge guy suddenly and heavily leaned his knee deep into Ed's belly.
New sharp pain made Ed scream, but his cry was no more than a croak. His resistance began to wane and the world swam in front of him again, sounds and colors started to leave, being replaced by the looming darkness and strange ringing.
He knew if he lost consciousness that he would be dead. This crazy bastard was not going to just knock him out, he would kill him.
Vaguely, he saw the triumphant grin on the face of guy over him ... With a jolt, he realized he was dying. He has only one attempt, last attempt. He risked releasing one hand and the pressure on the throat immediately increased, making the pain unbearable.
But now he reached into one of the pockets of his vest, with numb fingers gripped a heavy stun grenade, pulled it out and with all remaining forces hit the guy in the head, twice. A grip from his throat was gone, fingers loosened, then slipped away entirely and he frantically sucked in his breath. Rolling to his side, he pushed himself to his trembling knees.
Coughing, spitting blood and holding his throat, he blinked feverishly to clear his clouded view.
He glanced at his opponent. The huge guy, holding his bloody head, started to get up, with a growl. His face was twisted with rage.
Then, pulling the pin, Ed threw the stun grenade under guy's feet, falling and managing to close his eyes and his ears at the last moment...
...
"Team, split up" Greg ordered sharply, "Leah, take the left passage. Spike and Jules-"
The close roar of a sudden explosion ripped the morning silence, interrupting Greg and making everyone start.
"There!" Sam spun around and rushed into the right passage.
