Bang Bang
Tristan took hold of Ania and pulled her further into the room. Dagonet jumped into the next room and closed the door behind Tristan who threw Ania into the room in front of him.
And then it went off. The bang of the bomb echoed through Ania's ears as the apartment blew up around them. Tristan covered Ania with his own body like a cocoon while Dagonet lay on his stomach with his hands above his head.
All around them was rouble from the blast once the sound stoped. Suddenly everything was silent. A distant screaming reached Ania's ears as she moved her head from Tristan's chest.
Tristan immediately realised the sound had stoped but underneath him, so had Ania. He put his hand to her face only to have her looking at him silently and worriedly. He rose from the ground steadily and put his hand on Dagonets shoulder.
Dagonet groaned as he rolled onto his back. "Ania," he rasped.
Tristan nodded. "She's right here."
Dagonet got to his feet and saw Ania standing on a pile of rouble, covered in white dust herself. "Are you alright?" he asked her.
"Better than others, I'm sure," she said, heading to the front rooms which were now demolished. "Jesus," she whispered once seeing the ruins.
All the rooms around them had been blasted into smithereens by the blast. By the size of the destruction she realised it had not been a huge bomb but enough to kill innocents and give MI5&6 a warning.
Lancelot ran into the room, his face ashen white and his shirt ripped apart. "We've got three dead civilian's," he said breathlessly.
"Are you okay?" Ania asked him.
Lancelot nodded and wiped the sweat from his face. "I've just got online with MI5- we are to leave immediately and head back to London. We never came."
"What about Guinevere?" Dagonet asked him.
Lancelot shook his head. "They are handling it. For now…we have to disappear."
Tristan walked out from the wreckage where armed soldiers were now arriving. "Five minutes," he said commandingly. "Then we are out of here."
"What about Guinevere?" Ania protested, following him into their rooms which had not been touched by the blast.
Tristan didn't stop to answer her. "You heard Lancelot," he said bluntly.
"I'm not leaving her," Ania told him.
"Do what you're ordered Ania," he said calmly, throwing his computer into his holder. "Make life easy on yourself for once."
"I am making life easy for myself!" she yelled. "I'm not leaving without her so you go!"
Ania walked out of the room and to her own. She slammed the door closed behind her only to have it open again with Tristan letting himself in. "You're coming with me even if I have to drug you and put you on the plane myself," he said, going into her room and pulling out her bags.
Ania tried to take it off him but he was too quick for her. "Give it to me!" she ordered.
Tristan stuffed all her clothes inside the bag and carried it, unzipped and half open, into his own room. "You can't order me about now give me about now-"
Her phone rang. Tristan looked down at the bag in his hands and tipped it upside down. Ania bent over and picked up her fallen phone.
'Ania!'
"Van…did you hear?"
'Of course I heard! Get on the plane and come home.'
"But-"
'Please Ania…come home.'
0-0-0
MI5 Jet
Tristan walked down the single isle of the jet plane toward Ania. She was sitting alone and in the corner. Lancelot and Dagonet were on the other side sleeping in the beds.
Ania lifted her head from her hands only Tristan giggled the glass in front of her. He sat down opposite her once she took the whisky from him and waited for her to drink it. "She could be dead," she said after drinking it all in one.
"Don't think about it," he said calmly, "it wouldn't hurt so much."
Ania have a haunting, dead chuckle as she looked out of the window. "Your answer for everything. 'Don't think about it.'"
"It works," he replied irritably.
Ania looked at him. "Well, I'm a thinker. It's how I got my job."
With a huff she rose and headed to one of the bunk rooms at the very end of the plane. She closed the door behind her and flopped onto the bed in exhaustion. The bombing had been all over the Italian and International news within fifteen minutes of the blast. Luckily for them, the transportation had arrived and gone mere minutes before the news arrived at the blocked off scene.
Everyone wanted answers but no one had them. Even so it would be weeks and maybe months until they found the cause and tracked the bombers. How would Guinevere stay alive until then? Why did they have to go back to London so quickly?
Author Note: Sorry its so short but its an update. Should have more along soon.