Nikki
We lean against the pipe.
"How long have we been running?" Jack gasps "And where the hell are we?"
"I don't know, Jack." I sigh. "Everywhere looks the same down here!"
My arm and my hand are very painful and getting worse, so I can't imagine how Jack is feeling. I rather suspect that someone with less inner strength would be on the floor, but Jack is determined that he will not go before me – no doubt the latest adrenaline rush has helped with that.
It won't have helped the bullet – but I'm trying not to think about that.
I shine the torch behind me and see a hole in the tunnel wall just above the pipe we are resting on – an overflow tunnel of some kind. The hole is just about big enough to house us.
"Jack, do you think we could get in there?" I suggest, showing him the overflow tunnel. "We'd be more comfortable then perching on this pipe."
We try with great difficulty owing to our injuries, but eventually manage.
"Can I ask you something, Jack?" I venture, as we settle ourselves in our new place. It's still cold and wet, but at least our feet are out of the water.
It's the better of two evils.
"After you know – what happened with..." I grip his arm instinctively, knowing that he is going to tense up"...Brian Hawke"
He does tense up, but not as much as I expected. "Yeah, what about it?"
"You checked on me...then you were just sat there...staring, like..." I hesitate. "Well, like you were unsure of how I got hurt." I bite my lip, hating the words I'm about to say, because I know the effect they are going to have. He'll have to ask me – he'll have to check that it didn't happen how he first feared. He'll doubt himself and his ability to keep me safe again, but I need to know. I've been wondering for far too long. "Unsure of who hurt me."
I've long suspected that he was worried he had knocked me by accident and that's why he was staring.
He tenses up again. "Erm...I thought at first my elbow had hit you..." He admits. "But there was no blood on my elbow and there would have been..." He trails off losing confidence and suddenly backtracks, for once doubting the evidence. "I didn't, did I?" He stammers, distraught again by the thought he might have hurt me.
I can feel the fear radiating off him and I move closer to him. "No darling, you didn't." I reassure him softly. "It was Brian Hawke who hit me."
He lets a breath out and a weight seems to have been lifted from his shoulders. This must have been worrying him deep down for months.
"Can I ask you something?" He mutters. "This morning..."
"Yes...I kissed you on the lips..." I confirm. "It happened automatically and I didn't realise until later."
"No, me neither." He responds. "It was nice."
"Yeah, it was." I agree, squeezing his arm affectionately.
Another wave of increasing pain hits me. Right, I think, something to keep us occupied – keep morale up and take our minds off the pain and our potentially fatal predicament.
"Ok. 26 bond films." I say, snuggling into him for warmth. "Let's name them."
I have a further motive of course. It's a distraction for me. I won't let Jack see how scared for both of us I am – especially for him. I won't let him see how much pain I'm really in. He heard how terrified I was in Mexico. He heard me crying and literally screaming for my life. I won't put him through that again. I won't do that to him.
"Yeah, alright." Jack agrees, clearly glad to have something to focus on. "Start with the Sean Connery ones. 'Dr No', 'Goldfinger', 'Thunderball' and 'Never say never again'...your turn..."
"'You only live twice', 'From Russia with love', 'Diamonds are forever'." I offer, delighted that he's attacking my idea with such enthusiasm. That has to be a good thing.
"Getting George Lazenby and Timothy Dalton out the way..." He considers "'On her Majesty's secret service' 'The living daylights' and 'License to kill' "
"David Niven did the original 'Casino Royale'" I comment "The one with the ice hotel – 'Die another day'...who did that one?" I ask, feigning vagueness.
"Pierce Brosnon – come on love – you know that! It's one of your favourites!" He sniggers, not at all convinced by my pretence at forgetting. I should have picked a less obvious one to 'forget' - but at least it made him laugh. "Ok, let's have some Roger Moore-"
"'Live and let die', 'The spy who loved me', 'Moonraker', 'Octopussy'" I interrupt, triumphantly reeling them off as my competitive side rears its head.
"Oy!" Jack chuckles "That was meant to be my go! You were just waiting for Roger Moore, and you were determined to get those ones in before I could say them! We are meant to be working together – you say some – I say some!" He points out. "There's no 'I' in team, remember!" He reminds me, quoting Leo fondly.
"Sorry!" I giggle "Go on then!"
"'The man with the golden gun', 'For your eyes only', 'A view to kill' "
"More Pierce Brosnon" I suggest " 'Goldeneye' 'Tomorrow never dies'."
"'The world is not enough'" Jack adds "Daniel Craig-"
"You're doing it again, Nikki!" Jack complains, laughing. "That was my turn – you're far too competitive!" He raises his eyebrows, illuminated by slowly fading torchlight. "Remember..."
"I know: 'there's no 'I' in team'" I giggle again. "Sorry – I can't help it! Go on, you finish off."
He pointedly puts his hand in front of my mouth to stop me interrupting again – although due to our current whereabouts and where his hand has been, he's careful not to put it anyway where near my face.
"'Quantum of solace' and the new 'Casino Royale' with Daniel Craig." Jack completes the list with a widespread grin that is just visible in the dim torchlight.
"Hey you hear that?" I ask suddenly.
Jack listens. "Thomas!" He exclaims, as the shouts of 'Nikki!', ' Jack!' get louder.
"Thomas!" We bellow, elated at rescue being on the way. Perhaps we're not going to die after all – although I'll reserve judgement until Jack is safely in hospital.
"Where are you?" The echoes blare back, as we see the outlines of figures emerging from the darkness.
"We'reintheoverflowpipe." Jack calls, his speech thick with emotion, the words running into each other and his voice echoing more than anyone else's - making it unintelligible.
"The what?" The confused reply comes back.
"THE OV-ER-FL-OW P-I-P-E!" I yell shining our torch – which is not as bright as it was – in their direction. Luckily it seems to do the trick.
"There you are!" Thomas eventually comments in relief, appearing in front of the overflow pipe. "How are you both doing? I'm glad to see you're both conscious and alert at least. We know you've both been shot – your blood was all over the house!"
"Whoops!" Jack sniggers, apparently seeing the funny side of the Lyell having our blood as evidence. "We're fine."
"Jack!" I chide him.
Cooke pops up next to Thomas. "There's blood all over the walls of this tunnel as well."
"Yeah, sorry" I comment, holding my hand up. "That was probably me!"
"There's a hole in your hand!" Cooke states – as if I hadn't noticed.
"The first bullet hit me in the arm, the second one went through my hand and is now in Jack's back." I divulge. "Just so you know, Thomas, he needs to move very carefully because I can't tell how close to his heart the bullet is. Apart from that, we're both tired from blood loss and we're both cold and wet...and some flowers would be nicer to smell than a sewer."
Jack chuckles accepting the task, "I'll buy you some flowers when we get out!"
"Right," Thomas remarks, "Come on you two, let's get you out of here – but easy does it, Jack!" He adds sternly. "There's an ambulance each waiting outside and Clarissa and Jack's Dad will meet us at the hospital."
"My dad?" Jack splutters in amazement.
It's almost as if he's worried that he's going to get put on the naughty step for hiding in a sewer!
