The plane soared up, flying gracefully away as if to mock him. Behind Ourumov, more and more of the nerve gas facility exploded. He stood frozen with shock while heat and flames consumed the building. His career was over and his dreams had dissolved like fairy's gold in the moment a greedy finger touched it.
Slow motion snapped back to real time. Suddenly his second-in-command was there, already in the middle of shouting a report and asking him for orders.
Years of military drill and routine took over. "Move everyone to a safe distance into the wind direction. Report an Emergency Case One and ask for immediate assistance: military, medical and aircrafts. Have the helicopters fuelled so that they can help extinguish the fire and for transportation. Dismissed!"
The soldier made a crisp salute and started to shout orders into his radio.
Infuriated, Ourumov hurried towards the inferno and beckoned six men to follow him. None of them had been inside when he had staged the faked execution. "We're looking for survivors. And look out for someone dressed in a black uniform. We had a guest when the attack happened. Gas masks!" he ordered, and one of them hurried away to get them.
The icy winds fuelled the raging fires which consumed more and more of the buildings. A wave of heat met them, and the temperature increased the nearer they came to the buildings. Minor explosions took place, tearing metal apart and breaking glass and walls. Dead and injured soldiers were everywhere, and the screams of the wounded were horrible to hear.
The soldier returned with seven gas masks. When Ourumov put one on, the smell of chemical fumes, burning oil and soot was abruptly cut off.
Where should he start searching for the bastard? There was no need to check the storage room where the initial explosion had happened or the floor directly above. Nobody could have survived there. Only three ways led out of that room: the one at the front and the two stairways.
He dismissed the front exit. Trevelyan would not have wanted to be seen. Ourumov narrowed his eyes, and his gaze darted over the remaining building structures and the flames licking away at the remnants. The bastard could not have gotten out in time. Unless…unless he had used the same way the damn Brit had used!
"This way!"
The closer they got, the hotter it became. Instinctively, they recoiled.
"Look only within a radius of about 200 feet from the building but don't get too close to the flames," he ordered, and they spread out.
Another explosion happened further north. Ourumov seethed. Damn the Brit; and damn the day he had agreed to the deal. Never trust a defector.
"Colonel, we found someone. It could be the guest you mentioned," one of the soldiers reported.
Ourumov hurried along with him to where another soldier stood. He saw a leg clad in black underneath some fallen debris. He stepped closer. A large metal segment had fallen and created a shelter for the man. The question was, was the bastard already dead or still alive? He looked around. The other five soldiers were getting a few survivors away from the inferno and were occupied.
"Drag him out."
"Yes, Colonel."
The two soldiers pushed bits of the debris away, carefully avoiding getting burnt or hurt. Then each grabbed a leg. Together they pulled the man out.
The part of Trevelyan's face Ourumov could see was a ruined mess of burned flesh. "Is he dead?"
The soldier fumbled for a pulse at Trevelyan's wrist. He did not dare touch the throat. "Alive, Colonel."
"Get a stretcher." With a crisp gesture he beckoned the two soldiers to move quickly.
The two soldiers hurried away.
Alone with Trevelyan, Ourumov stared down at the motionless body. He drew his loaded gun and aimed. This was entirely the fault of the British defector. His knuckles were white and his fingers trembled. Then he let go of the trigger and holstered the weapon. Shooting Trevelyan would not achieve anything.
Ourumov knew that only one possibility existed to rebuild his career like a phoenix from the ashes.
Andie: Thank you :) I hope I can keep it coming, I'll certainly try!
Nail Strafer : Glad you liked it :) We'll see a bit more about the aftermath of Archagel'sk
GreenCat: 'hugs' You know, I was always curious myself what Alec might have to say about those three minutes...Thank you for your kind words.