Legal disclaimers: see earlier parts.
Disclaimers: see earlier parts.
The Last Day
Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam, 2007, two days ago
Aishwariya Nevata wasn't insane, or crazy, despite what almost everyone she'd ever met thought. She'd been diagnosed as everything from Psychotic and schizophrenic to brain damaged, but the reality was far more complicated. She was simply... different. She had real trouble distinguishing between right and wrong, for example, but after what had happened to her when she was young that was no surprise, or at least she thought so.
Beyond that, she just didn't fit. "Normal" people were able to work nine to five jobs, go home to Wife or Husband and children at the end of the day, live in a nice house, even keep pets. They would live their three score and twenty out, more if they were very lucky, then go into the ground, one way or another, life lived.
If she'd ever tried to live like that, she'd have strangled someone by the end of the day to make life more interesting. Burnt down the house for a laugh. Seduced the best looking Married man in the neighbourhood for the Hell of it. Indulged in Mass Murder just to see what she could get away with.
Something inside her had been lit the day she was born, a fire which had only been stoked by an extraordinary early life which had shredded any sanity she'd ever possessed and put so much anger in her blood that her heart had boiled black with the heat of it. She reacted and acted without thinking, did what she wanted and engaged in acts of monstrosity just because she could.
One day she might give a homeless child money and good advice that would take her or him off the streets for good. The next she might push someone who was in the wrong place at the wrong time in front of a bus because it seemed funny and she was terrible with practical jokes.
She could recall an ex-boyfriend, an American of course, whom she'd enjoyed but never even considered liking. He'd called her a heartless bitch, so she'd opened up his chest while he was still alive and given him an anatomy lesson to demonstrate that everyone had one, they just weren't always used for more than the purpose of supporting life. His expression just before he'd died, his own heart the last thing he ever saw, told her that he'd gotten the message. It had only occurred to her later that maybe she should have left him alive so he'd remember for next time.
Marcus Dixon had never, ever done anything which would make her angry, piss her off or even just get a rise out of her. He wouldn't lay hand on her because he was happily married with two young children when she made the offer, not even after she showed him what he'd be missing. He'd stood by her side in combat and trusted her to watch his back, granted her the respect she was due without question... He was the one man she knew who'd done everything right.
She supposed that was why she'd fallen for him, been unable to deny him anything he'd asked of her-if only he'd known that. When she'd heard that he was being targeted, she'd made sure to be in place where the hit would occur before it happened, to be sure. If she lost him, she didn't know what she'd do... Which made what she was staring at now all the worse.
It also made the thick pall of smoke coming from the jungle she was crashing the Humvee through all the important. Dixon's Partner was aboard that plane, she knew, so she had to make sure the young woman survived all of this. There were things that she needed to say, that needed to be done...
Y
Nadia didn't have time to even suck in a breath before the wrecked plane went into a twisting free-fall, rocking from side to side and even flipping over as it fell towards the ground. The ground level visible out of the planes side windows twisted and turned at impossible angles as the planes howling engine rose to a Banshee shriek, then suddenly died with a death rattle that seemed to almost shake the plane apart.
A stomach-wrenching screech echoed as the entire plane rolled over again, the wreckage in front making it front-heavy pressing deeper into the cockpit-before the entire roof of the cockpit section tore loose with a screeching howl of pain that came from the bowels of Hell. Suddenly free of any obstructions the shattered remnants of the transporter planes engine shot forwards as though it was trying to kill those barely holding on inside the plane...
Nadia threw herself down faster than she'd ever moved in her life, clearing the jagged shreds of metal and plastic coming to kill her by so little distance that she felt them tear the back of her shirt. Almost too shocked to do anything else, she still had the presence of mind left to her to grab the metal seat frame in a death grip as gusting winds and gravity combined to tear her out of the crashing plane altogether, to her certain death.
Randi wasn't quite fast enough, being forced to throw up her injured arm to protect her head as she ducked desperately. Nadia heard the crack of breaking bones and glimpsed pale white bone tearing through flesh in an explosion of torn meat and spraying blood as Randi's scream of utter agony was lost to the wind. That was one second before Randi's own broken arm collided with her head which such force she was knocked unconscious even as Nadia saw the already-damaged arm be forced right out of the socket at the shoulder, blood streaming down the woman's arm from her shoulder instantly.
Sarah, though, the closest to the wreckage, fared the worst. She didn't have time to take cover or duck and could only, at best, try to roll with it. It didn't work.
The wreckage hit her head-on and began by hitting her upper body so hard that almost every bone in her chest, arms, head and neck was simply pulverised. Flesh tore even as what was left of Sarah's body was crushed into the frame of her seat and the cockpit, blood pouring out in appalling quantities, splashing all over the plane and those in it as wind and gravity seemed to try to paint the whole world with the dead woman's blood. Sarah died of shock so quickly that she never knew what happened after the impact, which was a small mercy considering what followed. That Nadia and Randi could remember later, anyway.
Nadia's centre of gravity disintegrated utterly as the destroyed plane span around and around in mid-air like a demented three-dimensional clock. She couldn't even see straight as the air pressure and gale-force winds dragged tears from her eyes which obscured everything and made the fast approaching ground nothing but a terrifying blur. It didn't stop her from just about making out the shapes of tall trees as the plane fell into them, though, as though they were smashed down by the hand of God...
Nadia said a short, silent Prayer. She didn't want to die.
The plane hit the trees with the kind of mind-numbing impact Nadia would have once associated with being caught up in the detonation of a nuclear bomb. The whole world screamed at her, even as the plane lost both wings in the first few seconds of contact.
Slashing branches dug into her skin, tore at her hair and threatened her eyes. One bit into her leg and nearly stayed stuck in long enough to threaten to physically wrench her out of the aircraft. She strained every muscle in her body to the degree that her vision became a thin black tunnel and was coated in bloody red even as her heart seemed to tear inside her chest as the ultimate effort threatened to kill her. It was worth it, though, she kept herself inside the wreckage, the branch carving its way out of her leg, giving her a very slight chance of survival.
Then they hit the ground so hard that the remains of the aircraft sank six inches into the dirt forest floor. The impact drove her down into the ground with such force her head connected so hard with the planes deck that she saw stars and felt blood splatter everywhere as her teeth crushed her lips into the floor, biting deep as she found herself with no control of her own body. Her breath erupted out of her with such force that for a long moment everything went away, only when it came back her entire body was screaming at her about pain and forms of suffering she wasn't aware were even possible outside of TV. shows. If she didn't have broken bones and internal injuries, she'd used up all the luck she'd ever have...
Crashes, clanks and the echoing rumble of various heavy objects falling down all around echoed for over a minute before Nadia realised that she wasn't dead and had, in fact, survived the crash. All she could do was assume that it really wasn't her time, that God had other plans for her yet. Yet again, she wished that mission specs let her wear her Crucifix on Ops, but she never argued when it came to getting the job done. She was a professional, just like her sister and her father-and Jack-and the others at APO.
Then she smelt the sickly-sweet tangy scent of what could only be aviation fuel, such a strong stench that the main fuel tank of the plane had to have been not only punctured but torn open for such a quantity to have spilled. The plane had been utterly destroyed, but modern aircraft had wires and electrical power points everywhere and she knew it. All it would take would be a single spark to land in the right place...
She still couldn't move, at best her entire body was in shock and was incapable of responding to her minds commands. At worst, she'd suffered a spinal injury and was paralysed. Under the circumstances, with maybe seconds at best to do anything at all, whichever it was didn't ultimately matter. She was still going to die-and she was so, so afraid of dying for a reason it wasn't easy to put into words.
It wasn't that she was afraid of death or dying, she risked life, limb and sanity every day given her job. She knew that and accepted the risks without hesitation. No, it was the fact that she had a family now, that was the only way to really explain it, a sense of belonging that ultimately gave her something to loose she'd never even considered before. Not really. She'd never, ever realised just how alone in the world she was before she'd met her sister. She didn't want to loose that and, as odd as it sounded given that death took everything from you, forever, she didn't think she'd survive it if she lost the family she'd never known she had...
Her sense of smell still worked, so did her eyes, so she spotted the spark coming from a tore electrical line even unable to move her head. The heavy, thick stink of the aviation fuel now sloshing out onto saturated ground was only getting worse, threatening to choke her now. She'd be incinerated in seconds if the fuel lit off while she was drenched in it, they'd have to identify whatever was left of her charred corpse using dental records, if there was enough left of her to do that with.
If she somehow survived all of this, she was going to have to put a stop to the CSI marathons she and Sydney had been running for weeks late in the evenings when they were both home at the same time. Even by the standards of her profession, she knew far too much about death and the awful ways you could die now-
A roaring engine abruptly sounded nearby, coming closer fast, then it stopped approaching but the engine kept running. She could just make out what could only be the sound of someone crashing through the surrounding greenery at great speed on foot before a tall, dark figure erupted from the greenery, paused for a second to search her out then ran over.
She could barely make out who it was even as she managed to twist her head around a little, her eyes weren't focusing properly-probably a Concussion-but she momentarily thought it was Dixon, arriving in the nick of time. As her eyes slowly focused, however, she quickly became aware that wasn't the case. The exotic woman in front of her wasn't Dixon, it was the woman she'd seen him with in the firefight by the airport gate.
The woman didn't pause to check if Nadia was alright or even conscious, she simply scooped her up in a fireman's lift and sprinted back to the Humvee she'd arrived in with Nadia bouncing on her shoulders like a sack of potatoes. The woman moved so fast Nadia wasn't even sure she'd noticed the extra weight, for the long second before she was tossed none-too-gently onto the backseat of the Humvee. The woman turned and sprinted away again, before returning seconds later with the limp, mangled Randi, which she unceremoniously dumped on top of Nadia.
That done, she leapt back into the drivers seat of the Humvee, slammed it into reverse and gunned the engine, spinning the wheel as hard around as could be. The Humvee shot backwards and span left so fast that the heavy wheels slid in the earth and greenery, before she slammed it into forwards drive and rammed her foot all the way down. The big vehicle leapt ahead like a thoroughbred champion racehorse and raced through the torn-up forest as though it was being driven on by hurricane winds.
This, as it turned out, was a very good idea. For more than one reason.
At best thirty seconds after they got moving, Nadia smelt heavy smoke and the chemical stink of fire burning unnatural fuel. She knew what that meant-and a second later the wrecked planes fuel tank blew up like a small bomb, blasting flat trees, grasses, plants and anything else standing even as it tore out a crater in the ground. Nadia, at best semiconscious, felt the sheer force of the explosive concussion shake the entire vehicle and every bone in her body even as the rear half of the Humvee briefly left the ground.
Following that, a fireball so bright the sudden flash reached her eyes through eyelids sliding shut and jerked her awake again flared thirty foot into the air in a volcanic blast of heat and destruction. Everything the fireball hit that wasn't simply incinerated lit up like a Roman Candle, a massive blaze swallowing the crash site so quickly that, for a brief moment, it almost seemed likely to take in the Humvee as well...
That, Nadia had to admit, would cover their tracks very well indeed. It would take them days if not weeks just to determine if anything human was left in the melted wreckage and longer to identify the body, if they even could. Somehow, despite the horror of how she'd died, Nadia couldn't help but think that Cremation was a good way to go for the warrior Sarah had so clearly been in life. She had to have died so quickly, there was no way she could have suffered-and her mortal remains would be mixed with soil of where she fought her last battle.
The shock of her own survival seemed to have revived her somewhat, her body was responding again, if slowly. She tried to lever herself up, only to find the floor giving under her hands. It was at that point she realised that she'd been dumped on top of someone else's body, herself.
Steeling herself, she levered herself up enough to take in the face-and her heart nearly stopped when she realised just who she was touching, who was dead. Her already almost overwhelmed mind simply couldn't take any more at that point.
His dark skin was paler than she'd ever seen it, his strong chest still, his grim face slack and motionless, his sharp, intelligent eyes dull and empty. His sharp suit was soaked in blood from several wounds, his always well-maintained hair was mussed and disturbed. Those were just the details she took in, her mind noting them automatically.
Marcus Dixon, she knew who it was, it was him. Marcus Dixon was dead.
It was her fault, it had to be. He'd been doing his best to protect and assist her and all she'd really succeeded in doing was providing target practice, failing him in every way. It was her fault...!
This time, when darkness suddenly reared up to snatch her away from the waking world and drag her all the way down into a Hell of lost dreams, shattered illusions, pain and loss, she welcomed it. It was her time.
LA
Artemisia Hades and Toni Cummings had reached LA and were on their way to a drop-point where Artemisia knew the older woman would be able to make contact with APO when Artemisia's mobile rang. She wasn't expecting a call, so she knew to expect the worst.
She lifted her mobile from her belt, flipped it open and checked caller ID. It was NS99. She blinked, breathed in so sharply that Toni turned to stare at her briefly, then took the call.
The caller spoke quickly and clearly in Latin, the language of choice for Contacts who knew her habits. NS99 was a very special Contact, though, who had only one task and very specific standing Orders, one of which dictated, very strictly, under what circumstances Artemisia herself was to be directly contacted. Everyone who'd taken a denarius from her hand knew the consequences of disobeying Orders-and of failing her. So for NS99 to be calling her out of the blue...
The more she heard the more angry she got, although the only outside sign of the fact was that her lips became increasingly tightly pressed together and her eyes narrowed even as her teeth clenched like a steel trap. Toni didn't know her well enough to be aware of the danger signs, so looked at her questioningly. Toni didn't know just how volatile she really was, just what she was really capable of, what she'd do under...certain circumstances.
None of that changed the facts, though. She had a deal with Toni, which had been fulfilled on both ends, so the older woman got a pass-this time. More to the point and far more important, though, was the fact that she now had something of critical importance to deal with. No time for conversation.
She stood on the cars brakes and dragged the car over to the side of the road, fighting the cars skid the whole way until it came to a halt perfectly square to a parked car. Whipping a notebook and pencil out of the glove box she wrote quickly in English, shoved the note at the startled and open-mouthed Toni and shoved her.
"Out! Out of the car, Toni" she snapped, sharply, ignoring beeping horns and shouts from people in cars behind them who had only just managed to stop in time-although the occasional clatter and crunch told her not everyone had succeeded in doing so.
"Wait a minute, we had a deal-" said Toni, looking almost desperate. Artemisia almost slapped her at that, but just managed to stop herself.
"I've done my part, follow the instructions on that paper and you'll finish the job. OUT!" Artemisia growled, shoving at Toni with considerably greater force than her first attempt.
Toni grabbed the paper, opened the door and staggered out of the car, looking something between shocked and scared. "But..." she began, clearly not knowing what to say or do.
Artemisia ignored her, slamming down the accelerator and shutting the open door with just the force of acceleration. She needed to get to Vietnam, now.
Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam
"-UP!" someone shouted in her face, even as a massive impact that could only have been a slap snapped her head halfway around. Nadia blinked, tried to focus, failed, blinked again and found herself staring at the clear blue sky of Vietnam... Where was she? Why was she on her back-?
A second slap threatened to break her jaw as the person slapping her struck her again with greater force. She blinked again-then breathed in, sharply, feeling pins and needles as sensation suddenly sparked all over her body. She choked, coughed, choked and tried to move, but her muscles were jumping and she couldn't seem to focus enough on any part of her body to get a response.
"About time" snapped the voice-a woman's, Nadia now realised-and two hands suddenly grabbed her shirt to pull her up into a seated position. She found herself face-to-face with the woman who she'd seen fighting side by side with Dixon-
Dixon. Her heart skipped a beat, which seemed oddly painful for a reason she couldn't quite understand. It didn't matter. Dixon was dead, dead, dead...
The India woman shook her until her teeth rattled in her head. Nadia had to suspect that the woman was stronger than Weiss given the evident ease with which she'd manhandled both Nadia herself and Randi and from what she was seeing now. Injured or not, normally Nadia could very nearly match her boyfriend at the arm-wrestling contests they sometimes engaged in for...unusual reward. She suspected that this woman could have broken Weiss's arm with little difficulty.
"FOCUS, woman, I don't have time for this. One of your friends is bleeding to death in front of you, one is dead and the Viet police and army are on the way. They catch us we are all dead, do you understand that?!" the India woman growled in her face. For a long moment, Nadia genuinely believed that the woman was going to bite her nose off, but then she pulled back a little. Nadia blinked again, but finally found her voice.
"...Y-yes, I...do. I do. But...who are you? What do you mean? They...wouldn't dare...?" she managed, slowly. The woman slapped her again, hard. She tasted blood in her mouth and took the hint, since she was in no shape to defend herself-for the moment, at least.
"Are you that stupid?! In case you haven't noticed, the US Ambassador is dead! Assassinated in Vietnam after his escort was hit in the streets and practically wiped out, with no immediate reaction from the authorities! Any surviving witnesses of the actual assault can testify to all of this and you two are the only official one's left alive. You can't make it home, do you understand that?!" snarled the Indian woman.
"Yes...I do. So what do we do?" asked Nadia, feeling an aching thump-thump in her head as her Concussion reminded her of just how hard her skull had been rattled in just one day.
"Take this Humvee and get back to the Embassy, don't stop for anything at all unless its because you're dead. Don't even stop to check your direction if you can avoid it. Any other questions?" snapped the Indian woman.
"Just one: what about Marcus?" asked Nadia, very quietly. She didn't miss the flash in the other woman's eyes, but didn't understand what she'd seen there for a second, either. Just who was this woman? What was she?
"He took a bullet in the leg during the attack on the Ambassadors convoy but kept going. When we crashed the guard at the airport front gate...he got shot again, cut with a knife. But none of that killed him, the bullet in his leg...it shifted during the crash, he must have realised too late. It nicked an artery and he couldn't stop the bleeding, he bled out before I could get back to him. I did everything I could...but it was too late..." replied the woman, pausing more than once as she spoke.
If Nadia was any judge of character-which she was, she had to be-the reason the woman was having trouble getting it out was because she was genuinely upset by Dixon's death. She wasn't sure why that seemed so strange to her, but she had no doubt that this was not a woman who shook easily, let alone got upset. If the look in her eyes was any indicator, she was on the verge of crying...
"Tell Robin and Steven I did everything possible, will you? Their father should never have died like this. For whatever it's worth, his killers are already dead. Maybe...one day, I'll be able to tell them that myself" continued the Indian woman, before she got back to her feet and easily leapt over the side of the car onto the street. They were parked in a back street somewhere, Nadia finally realised, as she registered the two tall buildings on their left and right sides, a tall wooden fence behind them.
"Wait...WAIT. What's your name?" asked Nadia, dragging herself upright quickly before the woman could disappear. She didn't doubt that if the woman went away, she'd never been seen again unless she wanted to be.
"Oh...why not. Aishwariya Nevata, although I've been called the Red Fox among other things. Don't die" replied Aishwariya, then she vaulted the fence and disappeared from sight. Nadia didn't even hear her land, let alone run off.
It took a long minute for her to focus past all of the pain she was suffering, all of the injuries that were trying to stop her from going on. But she did and, thankfully, despite her difficulty in focusing past increasing pain from her Concussion, she managed to get the Humvee started again. She forced herself not to look at the bloody mess she knew Randi would be in the back, if the other woman was even still alive. It was going to take everything she had left to get them to the Embassy and safety, if she could stay conscious that long.
Thankfully, even though she'd been distracted talking to Ambassador Frost and the Vietnamese army officer with him the first time around, she had sharp eyes and a good memory. The Humvee, even with both front tires flat, was easy to drive and so solid she could just point it the right direction and put her foot down unless either a building or a human being got in the way, given the strangely quiet streets. Given her shaky eyesight, that was a very good thing.
What really worried her as they quickly approached the Embassy, though, was the fact that she was feeling a growing pain in her chest, even though she had no memory of suffering any significant injury there. Had she missed something in the plane crash? Or had the crash itself torn something loose inside her? Either was almost terrifying as a thought.
Armed soldiers with heavy weapons were easily visible on the walls and rooftops of the Embassy from some way away. She was almost sure she'd be shot at before someone with a pair of binoculars saw who she was and the main gate swung open, allowing her immediate access, before slamming shut behind her so fast the rear of the Humvee nearly didn't get clear. Marines ran in to secure the gate after her, all of them heavily armed and looking ready to kill. Someone had hit the big red button marked "PANIC", Nadia couldn't help but think. Not that it was a mistake to have done so.
As she reached the Embassy itself, where she had to stop to avoid running over a group of frantic-looking Embassy officials and senior military officers, including Sarah's junior JAG Partner, she felt sudden shooting pains criss-crossing her chest. Then it seemed as though her heart was being crushed in a fist and her left arm started to jerk uncontrollably, pain flashing up and down it even as heavy weight seemed to settle down over her heart inside her chest.
No. She knew what this was, but after everything it didn't get to kill her. She fought against the awful pain with every shred of willpower and every ounce of strength she had left. Too little, too late, she was exhausted, badly injured and bleeding out from too many wounds, some of them deep one's. She couldn't stop this. NO!
She just managed to make it to her feet, even as the whole world seemed to shake, blinking in and out of existence in front of her eyes. Some of the men watching realised something was seriously wrong and leapt for the Humvee, but they were too late as well. She tried to open the door, hoping that she could at least fall into the arms of one of the soldiers and be rushed to the Infirmary for help, but she didn't make it.
Everything faded away one last time, she thought she might have tried and failed to scream, but the last thing she saw was the ground coming up to meet her as she fell helplessly out of the Humvee onto the tarmac head-first. No...
...Light and life blinked back in for a moment, she realised she was lying in the arms of the young JAG officer, who had evidently caught her before she hit the ground with a flying tackle that would have done a professional footballer proud. He was supporting her head while gingerly lowering her to the ground, clearly trying to work out what was wrong, what he should do...
...The world clicked back on again like a switch. She was in the JAG officer's arms and he was carrying her at a sprint through the hallways of the Embassy, kicking doors open as he went. She wondered whether or not he'd make it in time, even as she picked up on the sound of hammering feet following close behind. Evidently, she was of some importance to these people, it seemed...
..."Heart attack! Get the defibrillator!" the Doctor was shouting, almost in her face. She wondered, dreamily, if he knew that she could hear him. She doubted it, somehow...
...Her periods of consciousness were getting shorter. She had little time left. There was so much left to live for, but her body was betraying her and giving up on it all. Worse, there was nothing she could do. She had no strength left to fight with...
...Then she saw him, as he came crashing into the Infirmary with a thunderous expression on his face and murder in his eyes. He dominated the room without trying, despite the ranking soldiers and other Embassy officials in the Infirmary who the Nurse was already trying to shoo out of it, without success. When he came in it was the difference between the God of War and rocks on the ground on a battlefield, they all turned like clockwork figures to stare at him as though there was nothing else in the world.
"Everyone but medical staff out of the room. Now" he said, his voice just the way she remembered it, but so cold that ice would have formed in Hell if he'd spoken aloud there. She wondered whether anyone would be stupid enough to even try to argue with him.
"Hold on, we need to talk to her. You can't just-" replied a middle-aged soldier who appeared to be the most senior soldier in the room-possibly the Embassy, given what Nadia could see of his rank markings.
The man didn't bother speaking even one word aloud, he just turned and looked at all of the other men in the room. The man who had been speaking stopped, then all of them left so abruptly it was almost entertaining. That done, he walked over to her and took her left hand in both of his.
..."Don't die, Nadia, I'm here for you now" he said, his voice gentle but firm, just like his grip. He squeezed her hand, she did her best to return it even as the world started to fall away again as the Nurse managed to cut away her shirt even while the Doctor slung an oxygen mask around her head...
..."Jack...?" she managed to whisper, her last word before everything finally went away again and she felt a massive pain surging through her chest again. Still, if Jack Bristow was the last thing she ever saw, she could live with that...or not. Ha, play on words on her death bed...
/End of Chapter 25. All Reviews welcomed/.