Agent Phillips had been startled when he came to, shortly after the plane hit the ground. He had come around quickly and said a silent thank you to God for allowing him to survive this crash. He was even more surprised when he moved and felt little pain. He had pulled himself up cautiously, after taking a moment to shove the heavy tree branch which had been lodged across his chest pinning him to the ground away. A quick assessment of himself told him he had one head wound which could be serious; judging by the blood pooling down his face, and a sprained wrist; that could possible be broken. He knew he was lucky to have these injuries, it was a miracle he was even breathing.
He staggered out of the wreckage which had accumulated around him and brushed his clothes down gently, holding his sore left wrist against his chest softly. He then wiped the dirt from his eyes and allowed himself to peer through the thick darkness. The place was wrecked, and for a chilling moment he wondered if he was the sole survivor, how could anyone make it through this, he wondered, why am I even here?
He carefully climbed over another tree branch and saw a leg coming out from under another upturned seat that was barely in tack, metal, leafs and a thick later of dirt scattered over it. He weakly pulled them away and let out a groan as he turned it over. It was Agent Quinn. He closed his eyes briefly as he saw the condition of his friend, it was a grotesque sight. A sharp piece of metal had caught him in the stomach, ripping his almost in two. He unnecessarily checked for a pulse, after finding nothing he gently closed the shocked eyes of his dark skinned friend. He was gone.
Phillips allowed himself a brief moment to rest as he leaned on the back of his fallen friends chair and fought to hold the tears inside badly wanted to spill. He knew he needed to be moving, looking for survivors and the suspect, but he couldn't. He was no longer concerned about the awaiting fate of millions of people or the traitorous women who could prevent it. He took a deep breath as he prepared himself to move onwards; he had never felt so totally alone before. He pulled himself together as he told himself there had to be other survivors, he needed to find them.
Miller herd the sound of movement some way over to his right and held onto the hope that the rescue teams were here. He saw his co-worker Phillips climbing through the wreckage and felt the warmth of hope. He tried to move to get his friends attention but the pain was overwhelming, every muscle in his body seemed to spasm at once, warning him he couldn't do this. Phillips glanced over in his direction but didn't see his friend that lay underneath the mess. He moved onwards towards the front of the plane, pushing away obstructing obstacles as he went. Miller felt his fear rise as his friend moved farther away from him. He tried to call out but his mouth couldn't comply with the task, no sound was made.
He realised he was going to die here before he herd the new movement from behind him. He tried to move again but began coughing instead. The coughs alone were inflicting inhumane pain in his chest and he knew he was seriously injured. He watched as a man he didn't recognise caught his eye and came over, pushing the wood and plastic away in an attempt to free him. Miller watched, knowing something wasn't right. This couldn't be search and rescue, they would not be here so fast. The man was talking to him, gently trying to reassure him he was going to be all right, but Miller felt the fear rise, he knew he wasn't going to make it home this time.
Kalah talked to the man as he opened his backpack and began rummaging through it for his palm pilot. Miller, the man said his name was, he didn't recognise it. He pulled out his hand held computer and scrolled through the pictures and names that were stored in it. It took over five minutes to do this, there was a lot of information stored inside the small device. He reached the end of the list and dropped his device it back into the satchel. Miller wasn't watching him now, his eyes were shut - he knew what was going to happen.
Miller silently prayed Phillips hadn't been spotted and was out of sight by now, so that he could either escape or attack. He herd the click of a weapon and stayed still, his eyes shut, his mind both praying for his fellow comrades while taking him some place else. He didn't feel nor hear the slug as it tore through his skull, taking him away from the wreckage for good. Kalah smiled as he placed the small handgun back in his waistband, the silencer still screwed on it. Nobody would have herd a thing, they still had the advantage of surprise.