A/N: Apologies for delay in chapter posting. Brief sojourn into hospital that I hadn't been expecting. Am back now though, and writing away merrily.
*
'No,' Ashleigh moaned in horror, her eyes widening, her mouth drying out as she met the gaze of the condemned Russian agent. 'No, no, no, no, no....'
Nobody paid any attention to her, as she felt the dizzy feeling crash over her, the blackness was once more beckoning her into its depths, she shook her head to clear it, to remove the blurring at the edge of her vision, she would not pass out, she would not pass out... the mantra repeated itself in her head, as she stared at Dmitrov.
He could see them, that much was clear, she only hoped that he could see how helpless they were, she knew her horror must be plastered across her face. He was now frantically looking around him, searching for a way to escape, or to figure out what the hell was exactly happening. James was stony faced, but Ashleigh knew that he was as disturbed as she was right now. Dmitrov was frightened, puzzled by the strange turn of events, no doubt wondering why he had been chosen and separated from them. She knew that if she was in his shoes she would be the same... she moaned again, quietly this time, her legs threatening to give way as the sudden thought hit her, would she and James be next? Would she be forced to watch as James succumbed to the virus, or would it be him on the other side of the glass as Hermes destroyed her body and took her life...
Dmitrov was beginning to panic. He threw himself at the door, with a bone jarring crunch he hit it square on, but the door refused to move. Again, and again he tried, until bruised and sore, he had to admit defeat. He was panting, his shoulders slumped as he began to realise the futility of it all. Slowly, he approached the table, his attention, even in his panicked state, caught by something there. With grim fascination he stared at it, then swept his fingers across the surface. Both Ashleigh and James could see that his fingertips were now stained red, daubed with the blood that had trailed from the dog's nostrils as it had died. It seemed that the blood had wiped out whatever trace of hope that Dmitrov had been clinging onto. With a silent roar, and a massive heave of strength, he threw the metal table over. Despite the sound proofing Ashleigh still cringed back from the crash of it upon the concrete floor, now Dmitrov was banging his fists upon the window, imploring them to help him. They could see his lips moving, his silent pleas for help, to get him out of there, and they could do nothing. Helplessly Ashleigh struggled against her captor, ignoring the pain in her arm as the grip once more tightened on her like a vice. If she had to break her arm to get free, then so be it... James took a step forward, but the gun was once more slammed into the side of his face. He stopped, as did Ashleigh. There was nothing, absolutely nothing they could do, except watch as Dmitrov raged on.
And then he stopped.
His eyes widened, he began to gasp for breath, and one hand scrabbled at his throat, clawing it, leaving long red scratches down his pale skin.
There was a low chuckle to Ashleigh's left, the Doctor was watching his experiment with a cold, satisfied, oddly gleeful smile on his face. 'And so it begins. The virus, as we speak, is attacking his respiratory system. With a large dose, such as the one that Mr. Dmitrov is receiving, the effects of the virus should occur quite quickly...'
A roar began in Ashleigh's ears, almost like a scream, as the Doctor continued his running commentary on the effects of the virus. Dmitrov was staggering now, leaning against the wall his mouth gulping as he tried to take in enough air to fill his damaged lungs.
'...as you can see Mr. Dmitrov is experiencing extreme ataxia, the lack of coordination, the staggering, his body is fighting the virus, next there should be a series of oedemas, cerebral, and pulmonary, to put it in layman's terms; his brain and lung tissues are swelling...'
Ashleigh snapped.
'Shut up!' she screamed, with an excruciating wrench she yanked her arm free from the heavy holding her, surprised he made to grab her, but she turned and came close to flooring him with a vicious right hook. She threw herself at the Doctor, anything to get him to stop speaking, describing the agonising collapse of Dmitrov's body that was all too evident to Ashleigh's and James's eyes. With a solid thud she landed on top of the bespectacled Doctor, surprised he was unable to fight her off, he beat feebly at her hands as she hit him, then suddenly her fingers were around his throat, cutting off his air supply.
Bond had reacted just as quickly, using the opportunity to try to disarm the other heavy. They grappled, each managing to get a few punches in, but out of the corner of his eye he saw the pale eyed heavy approaching Ashleigh, who was still throttling the doctor...
The Doctor's face was turning a vivid shade of red, tinged with purple, he mouthed helplessly, as helpless as Dmitrov was, as helpless as she had been when Alec's long fingers had curled round her throat... He could have killed her then, as easily as she could kill this bastard beneath her.
'No,' she gasped, her fingers loosening on the Doctor's throat, he gulped in great lungfuls of oxygen. For a moment, she stayed where she was, staring into those fishlike eyes, which were filled with surprise. They flickered to above her shoulder, and she turned her head to follow them.
The blow hit her hard on the shoulder, and as luck would have it, she was thrown sideways, and therefore out of the reach of the pale eyed heavy. She scrambled out of reach, and her eyes fell upon a heavy metal stool that was in the corner of the room. She moved quickly, grabbing it by the seat, the metal legs between her and the tall man. For good measure she swung it at him, grateful that he fell back out of its way. She glanced into the other room, Dmitrov was sprawled on the floor, one hand at his throat, leaning back against the metal table he had thrown over earlier. His struggles were getting weaker. She could help him, she could help him now...
She ran at the window, swinging the stool back, one hard swing and the glass would hopefully shatter, and she could get Dmitrov out of there... she heaved and the stool swung backwards...
'Ashleigh!'
She hesitated, her head slowly turning towards James who had called her name, still holding the stool at full stretch.
James was once more held at gun point, but he still managed to shake his head. 'No,' he said simply, gazing at the stool. Slowly Ashleigh began to understand, the realisation of what she had been about to do...
The Doctor had clambered to his feet, and was giving that cold heartless smile once more. 'I'd listen to your superior, Miss Kain, he's right you know. Smash that window, and you shall not only infect us with the Hermes virus, but you will release it upon the entire world. So go ahead if you wish to be responsible for the end of the world as we know it, but it seems your friend is already beyond help...'
The Doctor nodded towards the window, and Ashleigh saw then. Dmitrov had collapsed almost entirely now, propped up on one shoulder by the table, his skin was waxy, his eyes half closed, his breathing rasping. As she watched there was a sudden gush of blood from his nostrils, he feebly raised a hand to the flow of blood, and gazed at it surprised. His eyes slowly closed and his head toppled backwards, his hand falling to rest in his lap.
'No!' Ashleigh dropped the stool, and ran forward to the window. 'Vasili!' she cried, banging on the window, 'Vasili!'
Tears streamed down her face, tears of sorrow for the loss of a man she had respected and admired, and tears of frustration that she had been unable to help him. Her hands fell limply to her side, she simply stared as the heavy took her by her arms, and dragged her away. She glanced at James, realised that he was being pulled in the opposite direction from her, called out for him, but the heavy was already dragging her down the corridor, blinded by tears she could do nothing but stumble on.
*
'No,' Ashleigh moaned in horror, her eyes widening, her mouth drying out as she met the gaze of the condemned Russian agent. 'No, no, no, no, no....'
Nobody paid any attention to her, as she felt the dizzy feeling crash over her, the blackness was once more beckoning her into its depths, she shook her head to clear it, to remove the blurring at the edge of her vision, she would not pass out, she would not pass out... the mantra repeated itself in her head, as she stared at Dmitrov.
He could see them, that much was clear, she only hoped that he could see how helpless they were, she knew her horror must be plastered across her face. He was now frantically looking around him, searching for a way to escape, or to figure out what the hell was exactly happening. James was stony faced, but Ashleigh knew that he was as disturbed as she was right now. Dmitrov was frightened, puzzled by the strange turn of events, no doubt wondering why he had been chosen and separated from them. She knew that if she was in his shoes she would be the same... she moaned again, quietly this time, her legs threatening to give way as the sudden thought hit her, would she and James be next? Would she be forced to watch as James succumbed to the virus, or would it be him on the other side of the glass as Hermes destroyed her body and took her life...
Dmitrov was beginning to panic. He threw himself at the door, with a bone jarring crunch he hit it square on, but the door refused to move. Again, and again he tried, until bruised and sore, he had to admit defeat. He was panting, his shoulders slumped as he began to realise the futility of it all. Slowly, he approached the table, his attention, even in his panicked state, caught by something there. With grim fascination he stared at it, then swept his fingers across the surface. Both Ashleigh and James could see that his fingertips were now stained red, daubed with the blood that had trailed from the dog's nostrils as it had died. It seemed that the blood had wiped out whatever trace of hope that Dmitrov had been clinging onto. With a silent roar, and a massive heave of strength, he threw the metal table over. Despite the sound proofing Ashleigh still cringed back from the crash of it upon the concrete floor, now Dmitrov was banging his fists upon the window, imploring them to help him. They could see his lips moving, his silent pleas for help, to get him out of there, and they could do nothing. Helplessly Ashleigh struggled against her captor, ignoring the pain in her arm as the grip once more tightened on her like a vice. If she had to break her arm to get free, then so be it... James took a step forward, but the gun was once more slammed into the side of his face. He stopped, as did Ashleigh. There was nothing, absolutely nothing they could do, except watch as Dmitrov raged on.
And then he stopped.
His eyes widened, he began to gasp for breath, and one hand scrabbled at his throat, clawing it, leaving long red scratches down his pale skin.
There was a low chuckle to Ashleigh's left, the Doctor was watching his experiment with a cold, satisfied, oddly gleeful smile on his face. 'And so it begins. The virus, as we speak, is attacking his respiratory system. With a large dose, such as the one that Mr. Dmitrov is receiving, the effects of the virus should occur quite quickly...'
A roar began in Ashleigh's ears, almost like a scream, as the Doctor continued his running commentary on the effects of the virus. Dmitrov was staggering now, leaning against the wall his mouth gulping as he tried to take in enough air to fill his damaged lungs.
'...as you can see Mr. Dmitrov is experiencing extreme ataxia, the lack of coordination, the staggering, his body is fighting the virus, next there should be a series of oedemas, cerebral, and pulmonary, to put it in layman's terms; his brain and lung tissues are swelling...'
Ashleigh snapped.
'Shut up!' she screamed, with an excruciating wrench she yanked her arm free from the heavy holding her, surprised he made to grab her, but she turned and came close to flooring him with a vicious right hook. She threw herself at the Doctor, anything to get him to stop speaking, describing the agonising collapse of Dmitrov's body that was all too evident to Ashleigh's and James's eyes. With a solid thud she landed on top of the bespectacled Doctor, surprised he was unable to fight her off, he beat feebly at her hands as she hit him, then suddenly her fingers were around his throat, cutting off his air supply.
Bond had reacted just as quickly, using the opportunity to try to disarm the other heavy. They grappled, each managing to get a few punches in, but out of the corner of his eye he saw the pale eyed heavy approaching Ashleigh, who was still throttling the doctor...
The Doctor's face was turning a vivid shade of red, tinged with purple, he mouthed helplessly, as helpless as Dmitrov was, as helpless as she had been when Alec's long fingers had curled round her throat... He could have killed her then, as easily as she could kill this bastard beneath her.
'No,' she gasped, her fingers loosening on the Doctor's throat, he gulped in great lungfuls of oxygen. For a moment, she stayed where she was, staring into those fishlike eyes, which were filled with surprise. They flickered to above her shoulder, and she turned her head to follow them.
The blow hit her hard on the shoulder, and as luck would have it, she was thrown sideways, and therefore out of the reach of the pale eyed heavy. She scrambled out of reach, and her eyes fell upon a heavy metal stool that was in the corner of the room. She moved quickly, grabbing it by the seat, the metal legs between her and the tall man. For good measure she swung it at him, grateful that he fell back out of its way. She glanced into the other room, Dmitrov was sprawled on the floor, one hand at his throat, leaning back against the metal table he had thrown over earlier. His struggles were getting weaker. She could help him, she could help him now...
She ran at the window, swinging the stool back, one hard swing and the glass would hopefully shatter, and she could get Dmitrov out of there... she heaved and the stool swung backwards...
'Ashleigh!'
She hesitated, her head slowly turning towards James who had called her name, still holding the stool at full stretch.
James was once more held at gun point, but he still managed to shake his head. 'No,' he said simply, gazing at the stool. Slowly Ashleigh began to understand, the realisation of what she had been about to do...
The Doctor had clambered to his feet, and was giving that cold heartless smile once more. 'I'd listen to your superior, Miss Kain, he's right you know. Smash that window, and you shall not only infect us with the Hermes virus, but you will release it upon the entire world. So go ahead if you wish to be responsible for the end of the world as we know it, but it seems your friend is already beyond help...'
The Doctor nodded towards the window, and Ashleigh saw then. Dmitrov had collapsed almost entirely now, propped up on one shoulder by the table, his skin was waxy, his eyes half closed, his breathing rasping. As she watched there was a sudden gush of blood from his nostrils, he feebly raised a hand to the flow of blood, and gazed at it surprised. His eyes slowly closed and his head toppled backwards, his hand falling to rest in his lap.
'No!' Ashleigh dropped the stool, and ran forward to the window. 'Vasili!' she cried, banging on the window, 'Vasili!'
Tears streamed down her face, tears of sorrow for the loss of a man she had respected and admired, and tears of frustration that she had been unable to help him. Her hands fell limply to her side, she simply stared as the heavy took her by her arms, and dragged her away. She glanced at James, realised that he was being pulled in the opposite direction from her, called out for him, but the heavy was already dragging her down the corridor, blinded by tears she could do nothing but stumble on.