-1As Goren watched helplessly, the fake police officer gripped Sienna's right wrist hard, immobilising her gun hand, and began to bring his gun across. Almost gracefully, Sienna dropped to her right knee, the movement giving her more space to move and pulling her attacker off balance. Using her bodyweight, she threw her right hand up and across into a wristlock, turning the attacker's grip on her back on inside and using her left hand to clamp her attacker's hand onto her wrist, locking it out. He screamed, and Goren heard the crack as the wrist broke, whilst in the same motion, she rose up onto her feet, and as her gun hand came round in line with the man's chest, she fired without hesitation. He collapsed, pulling her down on top of him. Goren frantically ran across and pulled her off as the man struggled beneath her. He was obviously wearing armour under his uniform, but the force of the shot at close range had winded him and probably broken his ribs.
Sienna scrambled clear, and they brought their weapons to bear on the two impostors, Goren yelling "You move, and we shoot! You're under arrest!"
Behind him, there came the tramping of feet, and a small phalanx of police officers appeared at the entrance to the corridor. Goren wondered for a frantic second if they were more of Andropov's impostors, then realised with relief that he recognised their leader, DI Johnson, who was part of the Special Branch task force along with DS Hood.
"Explain yourself, Goren," Johnson remarked tersely, as the officers surrounded them. He did so, and Johnson swiftly apologised and had the two men taken into custody. Just then, the radio crackled, and they heard the welcome news: "…I can confirm that the sniper and his accomplice are dead…"
Everyone breathed a mutual sigh of relief as Johnson replied, confirming that they'd caught the impostors. Goren said urgently: "Can you find out if anyone who went after the sniper is injured?"
"I'll try, but we need to keep the communications channels free…" Johnson caught Goren's expression, and spoke into his radio. "Unit Two, can you confirm who is up there with you, and if anyone there is injured?"
The voice at the other end replied: "Three individuals here: Alex Eames, Tanya Simmonds-McAllister, Andrew Davenport. Davenport seriously injured and being transported to hospital, Eames and Simmonds-McAllister have minor injuries but are not seriously harmed."
Johnson looked at them and sighed. "Thanks, the pair of you. Now can you keep out of the way? I have some very pissed-off politicians to baby-sit."
They looked at each other. "Sure." As Johnson and his officers moved away to take charge of the situation, they found themselves looking at each other.
"Bobby?"
"Yes?"
"What do you think we should do – help outside or go find the others?"
He thought about that, then suddenly realised with a wince what sort of state Jack McAllister must be in by now. "First things first – we need to let your friend Jack know that we're okay."
Sienna called Jack whilst he waited, and he could hear her voice, so gentle, soothing and reassuring her friend. He watched her, so graceful… and now so strong, he thought. He realised suddenly that one of his worries – that if they got back together, she would be vulnerable to anyone who wanted to get at him through her – could now be dismissed. Sienna could defend herself now. But his Sienna was still there, he thought, as he watched her switch instantly from Sienna Tovitz, the trained Interpol officer who had taken down an armed man, into SiSi, concerned and caring friend.
She ended the call. "Jack says, he'll catch up with them at the hospital – Tanya's in touch with him by phone, she managed to call him. He'll keep us posted."
They both looked out towards the wreckage of the stadium. The rest of the temporary roof was beginning to collapse now, but the stands had been evacuated. No more people would be trapped under the wreckage, and he could see the beginnings of a rescue effort being organised on the other side of the ground. Police officers, stewards and members of the public were beginning to wade into the wreckage, cautiously searching for survivors, whilst elsewhere the beginnings of a triage area for treated the injured was being created.
Their eyes met, and he was suddenly struck by the absurd feeling that they were back where they had started, that surveillance operation-turned rescue mission-turned capture of a double agent, where he had found himself becoming attracted to the bright, beautiful mind behind those eyes, struck by how this woman might just be the equal partner in life that he'd been looking for without realising it.
As they headed back over towards the rescue effort, towards the other side of the pitch, Sienna reached out for his hand, gently. "Bobby… we still need to have that talk."
"Yes. But, once again, now's just not the time."
"Someone up there doesn't like us very much, do they? Would it kill them to give us a little time to ourselves?"
They reached the south side, and became absorbed into the rescue effort, helping carry out bodies, tying on bandages. Most of the injured either had bad flesh wounds or, in the worst cases, chest wounds so severe that only an ambulance could help. Behind them, they could hear the sounds of medical choppers beginning to land, bringing fresh help and supplies and transporting away the injured. He could hear the babble of different languages as the two groups of supporters, English and German, pitched in any way they could, civilisation reasserting itself as people did everything they could to help, from young men donating their clothing as bandages, to mothers of young children sitting with the wounded and murmuring reassurance to them whilst they waited to be seen.
Suddenly, Sienna caught at his sleeve. "Bobby? Over there."
He followed where she was pointing. What looked like a bundle of rags was curled up under a seat. Poised above it was a precariously-balanced sheet of metal, perched on top of a pile of wreckage. He squinted. It might be an abandoned coat. Or it might be an unconscious child. They made their way over towards it cautiously, mindful of the sheeting.
He reached it and turned it over. It was, in fact, an abandoned coat. But at least they'd checked, and they'd always have wondered if they hadn't.
"Oh my GOD!" Sienna's voice behind him was horrified. Suddenly, she threw herself at him, knocking him to the ground. Above him, he heard a distant rattle, then a teeth-grinding scraping of metal on metal as the sheet slid down over them, trapping them underneath it and between the rows of seats.
He groped frantically for Sienna. His hand reached hers, and they gripped on tightly. She seemed shaken, but unharmed, as far as he could tell in the near-darkness of the space they were now stuck in.
"I'm here, Bobby, I'm here."
They both caught their breath. Sienna snorted wryly. "What's that old saying about being careful what you wish for?"
