Ok so I realized I made a mistake earlier and should have wrote 2 dead and 1 injured at the restaurant, not 4!! headslap so bear that in mind in this chapter.
The dust cleared and he pulled himself free from the rubble. The coffee table had flown into him, hitting him hard on his head but shielding him from the rest of the blast. Angela had not been so lucky.
He moved over to her crumpled body, the look of shock imprinted into her frozen features. He swept back the hair from her face and his face softened. He suspected early 20's, if that. Too young.
Her eyes were what got to him, staring up at him, blank yet full of emotion. He looked down at her glazed eyes and saw the fear and the pain staring back. He stared until he could stare no more and with one move of his hand he closed her eyes, freeing himself from having to feel her looking at him. He had picked her to come with him. Her death was his fault. He moved away from her body, sitting against the far wall. Her blood was seeping into the carpet, staining the olive material a deep scarlet. She had died because of him. How many more would it take? How many more deaths would it take before Jen was back in his arms? Or would it be Jen's own death that prevented that from happening.
He stayed there until he heard the sound of sirens approaching, just watching her body; guarding it. He heard the footsteps clattering down the path, the crash as the front door was thrown open and the shouts of French dialogue as they swept the building. It was the man that Jethro had dealt with earlier who entered the living room first.
"By God," his voice quiet, the sound barely making out of his harsh throat.
Jethro stayed silent, finally allowing himself to stand and move towards the door. They were here now; it was okay to leave her. With one last glance over his shoulder he pushed past the two Officers who had joined their Boss and made his way out of the front door. Both of them helped him as he half limped from the building, his leg and chest in pain from where the table had struck his body; leaving the man that smelt of tobacco and gin alone with Angela. He listened to his own footsteps clacking down the path, ignoring that of the Officers accompanying him. The steady rhythm soothed him.
The blast came suddenly, knocking them to the floor. He flung his hands over his head, wincing as his chest stretched. He felt the heat sweep his body and he could taste the hot ash floating around him. He turned his head to look over his shoulder and saw another room ablaze. Two bombs?
His question was answered by another blast ripping through the building, smaller than the last but hotter, the fierce heat burning at his face. He managed to pick himself up and scramble across the grass, away from the building, quickly followed by the other two Officers. He reached the crowd of Police who had stayed behind, taking cover behind their vehicles. They grabbed him and threw him down with him as a fourth explosion was heard from the house. They waited for another, but it didn't seem to come. The time ticked by…2 minutes…10 minutes…20 minutes…
It was then the bomb disposal squad arrived, entering the building with caution. Jethro watched as they retreated and shook their heads. No more bombs…no survivors.
That made the count to four, four innocent people who had died at the hands of this mission. The two from the restaurant, Angela and…it suddenly struck Jethro that he had never found out the man's name. How was that even possible? He had met with the man, shared information with him; how could he not know his name?
He leant over to one of the Officers near him and brought his lips close to his ear, none of them had fully recovered their hearing yet.
"What was his name?"
"Chief Constable Remmings, Sir."
Jethro let the use of 'Sir' slide for once and stared back out at the ruins of the house. Something fell into place in his mind and he walked over to the man that had taken control after the death of their superior.
"They were watching us."
"Pardon?"
"They had to have been watching us. I was in that house for at least 20 minutes after the first bomb, maybe longer, I don't know how long I was out."
"and…"
"Why didn't the other bombs go off?"
"Maybe they were motion sensors in each room."
"No, that doesn't make sense either, they swept the entire floor before finding me in that room. They would have tripped any sensors then."
"Then they were random, you're just lucky."
Jethro didn't like the tone of this new man in charge. He could see the rest of this investigation not running smoothly, not that it had run anything close to smooth so far.
"One bomb, then 20 minutes, and then three bombs together? That's not random."
"Then why do you suppose they waited?"
Why had they waited for him to leave?