Chapter 19: The Break-Through

Haiti, West of Petit-Troup-de-Nippes, January 6th, 2008

Everything was suddenly so obvious. He was being held by two people. They were gripping his arms, but his legs were free. He knew their height - knew where their heads were. Knew how to move.

Chuck whipped his legs up, jackknifing while being held upright. His feet hit their faces, teeth shattering on the steel-capped boots he wore. He reversed direction, pushing off and flipping, landing on his feet as they released his arms in their shock. He dropped low and swept both of them off their feet with his leg.

He kept turning, rising into a roundhouse kick to the face of one of the men holding Morgan, then slipped behind the reeling brute, drawing the pistol stuck in their waistband at the same time.

One of the guards with rifles was taking aim at Chuck but hesitated due to the human shield he had. Chuck shot him in the head, then shot his human shield, who was still standing despite the kick, then shot the other man who had just released Morgan.

Double-tap to the head. Down. Morgan dived to the ground, scrambling for the rifle the guard had dropped. Chuck crouched as well and shot at Obas, putting three rounds into the man's chest. Down.

Or not. Obas reeled but kept standing. He wasn't wearing a vest, though. Chuck quickly checked his gun - a .45 - then fired again. Obas refused to go down. And one of the men Chuck had shot was getting up.

But Sarah had used the distraction and gotten away from her own captors. As Chuck jumped behind a pillar nearby, he saw her slit the throat of one of the guards, then crush the throat of the other.

Obas turned to face her, though. And Chuck had only two rounds left in his pistol.

Before he could plot the best course of action to get another weapon, the sewer lid in the centre of the square shot in the air, followed by a screaming figure - Caridad!

The Slayer flipped in the air, then landed in a crouch, beheading a guard on the way with her kukri. The dead man was still in the process of dropping to the ground while she shot off like a rocket towards Obas. The man whirled, brandishing his knife at the Slayer, which got him stabbed in the back by Sarah, right before Caridad cut his head off.

There was less blood than expected, Chuck noted before he dashed forward, dived into a roll and came up holding a discarded submachine gun. Two bursts later, Casey was free. This gun was working properly, at least.

Sarah was running towards him. Good. Joining forces would be more effective. And Morgan had managed to free Bane while Casey had recovered a rifle despite his injuries. Chuck put a few more rounds into a staggering guard before Caridad beheaded them, then looked for more threats. There weren't any - Bane had just dispatched the last of the men on her side, assisted by Morgan. And Casey had shot a man on a motorbike trying to drive away. But… there! More people moving towards them, in a ragged line, even.

Easy targets.

"Chuck! No!" Sarah screamed.

He blinked. "What?"

"They're mind-controlled!"

Oh. OH! He gasped. He had almost gunned down the zombies the villagers had been turned into. The living zombies. "Oh my gosh!" He shook his head. "I…"

Sarah pulled him into cover behind a pickup in the corner. "What happened, Chuck? Did the Intersect activate?"

The Intersect. Yes. "It must have…" He shook his head again, staring at the gun in his hand. How had he… "It's gone again." The tougher guards must have been demons, he realised.

"They'll keep obeying the last order!" Caridad yelled. "They won't stop until we're gone."

"How does he control them?" Bane yelled.

Chuck almost replied with 'Magic!'. "Then we need to leave!" he yelled, instead.

"There are still guards outside the village," Casey interjected.

"We can shoot them on the way out!" Caridad replied. "We can't shoot the villagers!"

"Let's take the car," Sarah yelled, climbing onto the driver's seat.

Chuck hurriedly followed her, still grasping the submachine gun. Bane and Morgan climbed onto the back with Casey.

"Caridad!" Sarah yelled, starting the engine.

The Slayer was knocking down zombies. She was almost surrounded.

"Caridad!" Morgan screamed. There were more zombies coming - they were converging on the square from all sides.

She pushed a tall man back with a kick to the chest, then whirled, jumped over two grasping zombies and sprinted towards them, going full-tilt.

Sarah was already accelerating, but the Slayer caught up, grabbed the fender with one hand and pulled herself up and onto the truck bed in one smooth motion.

"Hit it!"

Sarah accelerated, drifting around the next corner, barely missing a family of zombies trying to bar the way, and kept going towards the edge of the village.

Sarah hissed through her teeth when she almost ran over a few civilians - including children - when she took that corner. To mind-control people and use them as cannon fodder like that…

"Was Obas the man controlling them?" Chuck yelled to the truck bed. He had acted weird as well - the Intersect, no doubt. But she couldn't wonder about that. Not now.

"I don't know," Caridad yelled back. "Don't think so, though. He didn't feel like the big bad."

Damn. That meant there was still a Vodouist controlling the villagers. And the armed guards or drug runners.

"'Feel like the big bad'?" Bane asked.

Sarah tuned Grimes' explanations - or attempts to cover up Caridad's slip - out and focused on the road. More villagers blocking the way. They were spread out in the street and on the sidewalk. But... There!

"Hold on and take cover!" she yelled, then pulled the steering wheel to the right, crashing into and through a wooden gate. In the yard behind it, the pickup scattered a flock of chickens and rammed a manure heap, spreading chicken shit all over the area.

"Whoa!"

"What are you doing?"

"No!"

Sarah ignored the complaints, drove over the heap and kept accelerating. She needed enough speed to break through the gate on the other side of the yard, or the zombies would corner them in the yard. And that wouldn't end well for anyone.

"Hold on!" she yelled again, then ducked - this gate was lower, and the stone arch tore off the pickup's roof as the wooden gate splintered and gave way.

But they were on the road again, and almost out of the village.

"Everyone OK?" Chuck yelled.

"Are you trying to kill us?" Bane yelled back.

"They're OK," Chuck reported.

Another corner, but no zombies. And the road out of the village was free.

"Sniper!" she heard Casey yell.

She reflexively made the truck swerve moments before a shot hit the windshield, turning half of it into a spiderweb of cracks. And Chuck screamed.

"Chuck!" She kept weaving and risked a glance at him.

"I'm OK. Just…"

He was OK. She pressed down on the accelerator. The wide-open road wasn't ideal, but going off-road would be worse, and taking cover behind a building would see them overrun with zombies in short order.

Someone - Casey - was shooting back from the truck bed. Another one joined, probably Bane. But another shot hit the hood, so the sniper was still active. She ducked again and told Chuck to take cover. He couldn't do anything right now.

She weaved the truck back and forth over all over the road - but it was a narrow road, and the more she swerved, the slower she drove, which made her an easier target. And made it harder for Casey and Bane to shoot back.

Another shot hit the hood, and the engine's noise changed.

"Uh, oh," Chuck commented.

"It's still running," she said.

"We're leaking oil!" Caridad yelled from the back.

Another shot hit the side window right behind her, showering her with fragments. The sniper was behind them, now. And there was a patch of forest coming up ahead.

"Rocket!"

Sarah drove the truck into the ditch, narrowly avoiding the explosion that tore up the road. She also managed to keep the pickup from rolling over, but she didn't manage to avoid the large rock in the way.

Fortunately, they'd lost enough speed, so the impact didn't throw her through the remains of the windshield, but she was still stunned for a moment from hitting the steering wheel.

"Everyone OK?" Chuck yelled again.

"Hurt my ankle!" Grimes yelled back.

"No worse than before," Casey reported.

"Yes." Bane must have jumped off before the impact - she was already in the ditch and firing.

And Caridad… Sarah slid out of the car and saw the Slayer was trying to pull the pickup off the rock. "It's done for," she snapped at the woman. "We need to take cover - the truck will draw more rockets."

She crouched down in the ditch and took stock of the situation. They were about two hundred yards from the edge of the forest. The sniper was still firing, but they could use the ditch as cover.

"Got the sniper!" Casey announced.

"Let's move into the forest, then. Before they move up the RPG," Sarah replied.

"I can take them out as well," the agent insisted.

"The zombies are coming, too!" Caridad said, pointing back at the village.

Indeed, a veritable mob was forming there, covering the road as they advanced.

Casey cursed but slid down into the ditch. "Let's book it, then."

"Ah…" Grimes said. "I can't exactly run."

"I'll carry you." Caridad didn't wait for an answer but grabbed Grimes and slung him over her shoulder. "Let's go!"

They hurried as best as they could - you couldn't run well in the ditch, not hunched over to keep from exposing your head - but still outpaced the zombies, and no one took a shot at them until they reached the forest.

Unfortunately, the mob of mind-controlled villagers - she wouldn't call it a zombie horde - didn't look like they were giving up.

Chuck was panting when they reached the forest after what felt like an hour running under invisible guns which would fire at any moment to cut them down, but he wasn't exhausted. He still sat down behind the thickest tree to catch his breath, of course, while Caridad put down Morgan and the others got into firing positions.

"We've got a few minutes, tops," Sarah announced, "before the mob gets here."

"Someone really doesn't like us," Caidad said. "And they don't care about the attention they catch."

"They probably control the area," Sarah retorted. "And don't have to worry about the authorities."

"With mind control, that would be easy," Bane agreed. Chuck didn't like her tone, though. She sounded less horrified and more impressed. Envious, even. "We'll have to move quickly, so we won't be caught in the open when they leave the forest."

"The Vodouist behind this is still alive," Caridad objected. "And we haven't checked Lindor's grave yet." She peered through the underbrush. "But Morgan won't be able to outrun the zombies. Or outwalk."

Chuck could see that Morgan was aware of that, but trying to be brave. "I could cover…" he began.

Chuck cut him off. "No."

"No one dies. It's a rule," Caridad added.

Sarah took charge. "We'll split up. The wounded fall back and lure the mob away, the rest of us circle around and take out whoever is behind this."

Chuck nodded. It was a sound plan, especially given their situation. But…

"Casey won't be able to carry Morgan," Caridad pointed out what Chuck had just thought of.

"You'll have to go with them," Sarah replied. "Bane, Chuck and I will go back."

It was a sound plan, with decent odds. Probably. Chuck wasn't sure if it was the best pan they could make. But time was running out. Even Caridad realised that, though she was frowning heavily.

"Move along the road in the forest, then cut cross-country to the bay we discovered. Don't call anyone local for transportation," Sarah told her.

Casey bared his teeth as the Slayer nodded, then closed his mouth again. Chuck didn't know what had made the man angry.

"Let's go!" Sarah snapped, after a last glance at the advancing mob.

Then they were off, moving through the forest together before splitting off. They weren't running, for which Chuck was grateful. Even jogging wasn't easy, in the rough terrain, but he wouldn't tire out too quickly at this pace.

"If we get spotted, we'll be mobbed," Bane said when they reached the edge of the forest, near a small pond with the remains of a hut.

He chuckled at the rhyme, then frowned at his loss of control.

"We'll have to be careful," Sarah retorted.

"They'll notice once we take out their leader."

At which point the spell on the villagers would be broken. Chuck hoped so, at least. It had worked for the bezoar in Sunnydale, but he wasn't an expert for Voodoo mind control. Or Vodou, in this case.

"We can evade them once the leader is dead," Sarah said.

He realised that he was still carrying the SMG. It was a Heckler & Koch MP5 - an older model. Very, very belatedly, he checked the magazine. It was about half-full - not exactly a lot of ammunition. Not that he could shoot very well, anyway. Not without the Intersect. Which hadn't kicked in since the fight.

"We have to find him, first," Bane pointed out.

"Uh…" Chuck spoke up. "That shouldn't be too hard. They'll be ordering people around and probably carrying a lot of Vodouist symbols and stuff. I think."

Bane didn't look convinced, but Sarah nodded. "We'll use the small stream to the west to get into the village. We can fashion some floating debris as cover using the hut here."

"Are you serious?" Bane stared at her.

"Would you rather attempt to seduce a mind-controlled villager or guard?" Sarah shot back. "Or crawl through the fields?"

Bane glared back but didn't voice another protest.

Ten minutes later, they had some 'broken crates' ready that would let them breathe and keep their weapons dry while floating downstream. And hide their approach. In theory.

Bane still didn't look happy, but Chuck couldn't tell if it was because she thought the plan wouldn't work, or because it was Sarah's plan. He pulled off his white shirt - it would only hinder him in the water - but he kept his black slacks on. Camouflage for his pale legs. And he really didn't want to go into combat in his underwear.

Sarah and Bane didn't have that problem - their skirts and tops weren't tight and skimpy enough to pass as swimwear, but they would still let them swim easily.

"Keep behind me," Sarah told them. "We'll find a spot with some cover to get out of the stream, then look for the leader."

Chuck nodded, stuffing his shirt and submachine gun into the 'crate', then slowly lowered it into the stream.

"Chuck."

He turned his head while he kept a grip on the crate. "Yes, Sarah?"

She kissed him, then smiled and backed off. "Be careful."

A moment later, she was in the water, head disappearing beneath her crate.

"Love you," Chuck whispered, then followed her.

The current wasn't very strong, and the water was colder than expected. Perhaps he should have kept his shirt on? And trying to keep track of Sarah was difficult, even though the crates they used as cover had large gaps - Chuck tended to get turned around while drifting.

But this was what spies did, he reminded himself. Sneaking into forbidden, dangerous places to find secrets. And, in this case, to kill enemies. Which made it more like an assassination - or would, if they weren't going after a mind-controlling Vodouist working with demons. He pressed his lips together. Sending so many civilians - children! - at them, not to mention that the entire village had been effectively enslaved… Focusing on that helped, he found.

Despite that, he was still feeling cold and wanted to get out of the water straight away by the time they finally reached the village. But Sarah led them on, past the first buildings, to… Oh. The old mill. It looked abandoned, but it was built partially over the stream. It would provide the perfect cover to get out of the water and take a rest to recover before proceeding with the mission. The upper floor might even serve as an observation post. Or sniper nest.

Oh. There was the mill. Chuck was almost carried past the building by the current, which seemed to have grown stronger. But he managed to slide in next to the wheel. Climbing out of the water behind it, without losing his weapon and clothes, or getting spotted, was harder, but Sarah helped him.

And hugging her, even if it was only for a moment, helped with the cold as well.

"Upstairs," she whispered. "Let's take a look."

So he had correctly anticipated that. Nice! He was smiling as he followed her up the stairs, then winced when they creaked. If anyone heard it…

But they reached the floor above without anyone sounding an alert. The view through the dusty windows wasn't the best, but most of the village was open to them.

"I don't see anyone who might be…" Bane suddenly gasped.

"Lindor?" Chuck asked.

"He's dead!" she hissed.

"Not yet," he corrected her. Although he suspected that the man might be dead - some practitioners allegedly turned themselves into zombies. The undead variant, not the mind-controlled one. He took a look himself. There was a man matching the pictures in his file, in the square, talking to - no, ordering - the guards.

"He must have faked his death," Sarah said next to him. "Or used a body-double."

"Or it's a twin," Chuck added.

"Or this is a body double," Bane replied without taking her eyes off the man. "I can nail him with my rifle from here."

Which would give away their position, but wouldn't do much against a zombie. Chuck really wished that he had a flame thrower. Even though that would risk setting the village on fire. "I think we need to be closer," he said. "We need to confirm his death and his identity."

Bane stared at him. "We can get a blood sample after his death."

"Uh, I think we need to get the body. All parts of it." To properly dispose of such a zombie, they would have to take the body to a safe place. Beheading it and sewing its mouth shut after stuffing salt into it took time. At least that was what Morgan had told them would be most likely to work on any zombie you couldn't simply behead or burn.

Bane was staring at him as if he were crazy. Well, to someone who didn't know about demons, chuck would sound weird.

"There are half a dozen guards. We need to take them out, then take Lindor down," Sarah said.

"I can shoot him from here. With him and Obas dead, the rest should be thrown into disarray," Bane insisted.

It didn't seem as if the spy'd come around. Chuck glanced at Sara. She was frowning. "Wait until we're in position," she said. "Chuck and I will move closer." So, she had also realised that Bane wouldn't budge.

"That's…" Bane started, but Sarah was already moving down the stairs. Chuck flashed a smile that probably wasn't as confident as he wanted it to be, then followed her.

His wet slacks were covered in dust, he noticed. They would need new clothes if they wanted to return to the yacht without drawing attention. He shook his head. He had to focus on taking down Lindor. Anything else could wait. "So… how do we do this?" he asked in a whisper when he crouched down next to Sarah at the mill's door.

"We'll go through the backyards there," she replied, pointing at a row of houses lining the stream's shore. "That will get us close to the square."

Close, but not close enough, if Chuck remembered the village's layout correctly.

"We'll have to rush the last leg, though," Sarah confirmed his assumption.

"Ah."

This would be a good time for the Intersect to start working again, Chuck thought.

But it didn't. That he stumbled over the uneven floorboards, following Sarah out of the mill proved that. And since they were dealing with the supernatural, he couldn't even hope to flash on something useful. And while he had experience in fighting demons, he hadn't fought zombies. Well, not before today.

But he still followed Sarah, dashing across the street and climbing over the fence there, into the yard of the closest house. Which took longer than it should have, of course, since his shirt got caught on the fence and ended up with a huge tear in it.

But now they were in the backyards, hidden from sight, and moving towards the village centre. One fence a time.

His trousers were sporting two tears and the shirt one by the time they reached the end of the row. But they had made it. Now all that was left was the assault straight down the road.

Which usually didn't end well in any movie Chuck had seen where the enemy had automatic weapons. But Sarah knew what she was doing. She was an experienced spy.

"Alright, I'll give Bane the signal. Once she starts shooting, we'll rush ahead, to the corner there, and break into the café to take cover," she whispered, crouching behind the gate to the street.

"Right," Chuck replied, then swallowed. He could do this. He had to do this. His friends were counting on him. Sarah needed his help.

"Open fire," Sarah whispered into her comm.

A moment later, a shot rang out from the mill, followed by another as Chuck heard screaming ahead of them.

"Go!"

Sarah was out of the gate and running before Chuck could start to follow her. But he ran. As fast as he could. Halfway to the corner, a man appeared there, clutching an assault rifle - FAL - in his hands. Sarah shot him before Chuck could call out, and the man dropped to the ground.

She scooped up the rifle as she crouched down at the corner. "Get in through the window," she snapped when Chuck caught up.

The window was closed. Should he break it… No, there was an open window. Feeling stupid, he quickly pushed it open and climbed inside. "Clear!" he announced a little belatedly.

Sarah joined him a moment later, sliding over the windowsill in a smooth movement that left her crouching and facing the front. "Come!"

They moved to the front of the café - or perhaps 'tavern' would suit it better; it didn't look like a café. 'Dive' might also fit.

Then Chuck glanced out the front window and gritted his teeth. "I can't see Lindor," he hissed.

"He's behind the wall on the other side. Bane hit him, but he's not down," Sarah said.

How had she… Oh. There were two guards on each side, glancing behind them regularly. And some blood on the ground - not much, though. The two downed guards in the centre of the square were lying in pools of their own blood, in comparison.

"Bane can't hold out much longer - they're moving to flank her," Sarah said. "We need to eliminate the guards and take out Lindor."

"Alright," Chuck said with more confidence than he felt. He wet his lips. "Ready."

"Fire!" Sarah whispered, raising.

Chuck stood, aiming his submachine gun at the guards on his side. Semi-automatic aimed fire, he reminded himself as he squeezed off the first shot. And another. And another.

But he missed, and the guards took cover - or started to; one of them was shot by Sarah, who had dropped the guards on her side already, before he could reach the wall behind them.

The other, though, was behind cover now. And Lindor would be warned.

Sarah didn't berate him, though - she dashed out of the house. Rushing the enemy position.

Chuck cursed himself and followed her. If only he had hit his targets. Killed them. If only the Intersect worked. Now… His eyes widened as three armed thugs appeared on the right side of the square just as Sarah and Chuck were halfway across and completely exposed. They were dead! And it was his fault! "Sar.." he started to yell.

And then his gun was firing, and the men dropped to the ground. Three shots, three kills. He charged forward, vaulting over the wall, firing before he hit the ground and putting two bullets into the last guard who had been about to fire on Sarah.

Chuck rolled and came up with his gun aimed at Lindor before the man could react, squeezing the trigger. On an empty chamber. He threw himself to the side, making Lindor miss his shot, then pushed off and jumped towards the fallen guard's weapon. Another shot missed his legs by inches as he grabbed the gun - a G3 - and fired a burst into the Vodouist.

Lindor was hit in the chest and stomach and sent stumbling back but didn't fall. He didn't bleed much, either. And he still had his gun.

But before the man cold shoot Chuck, Sarah appeared on the wall and pounced, tackling Lindor to the ground. Her knife flashed, cutting the man's throat as she kicked the gun out of his hand.

Lindor threw her off, his slashed throat making gurgling noises as he tried to speak, but Chuck reached the zombie before he could pick up or draw a weapon. He kicked Lindor's leg, sending him sprawling again, then jumped on him, going for a pin.

As they struggled, Sarah joined in, grabbing Lindor's hair and pulling his head back. Then she started to saw with her blade.

The zombie kept struggling, kicking and trying to hit Chuck with his fists, until, finally, his head separated from his neck and he collapsed.

"Salt!" Chuck spat. "Salt and sewing!"

Then he saw the bracelet on the corpse's arm and flashed.

A museum. A masked thief on a security camera record. A dead body of a known burglar found on a beach. A missing goldsmith specialising in custom orders and known for his distinct style.

He blinked. "The bracelet! It's a gris-gris! A Vodouist talisman! Stolen from a museum in Paris five years ago. He must have had it worked into a bracelet."

Sarah looked at the bracelet, then at him.

"It holds his power… I think." Morgan was the Watcher-in-training, but Chuck had read up on Vodouists on the way here.

"I didn't think your information covered this," Sarah said.

"It doesn't," he told her what she was asking. "But this was filed as an art theft. The talisman was part of a collection in Paris. And if Lindor had had it stolen, it must be powerful."

"Can we handle it safely?" She asked, looking around. "Target down," she said into her comm.

"Uh…"

"Bane's had to move. There's still a group of guards around," she informed him as she moved to the corner, leading with her gun.

Which left him to deal with the body. And the possibly-evil-and-dangerous artefact. Before the enemies returned to ask for new orders. "No pressure," he mumbled, kneeling next to Lindor's corpse.

He should have brought gloves. Surgical gloves would be very useful right now. Or just leather gloves - he didn't want to touch the gris-gris with his bare hands. Although his shirt was beyond hope anyway.

He pulled it off and wrapped it around his hands, then fiddled with the bracelet. Where was the latch? Was there even a latch? If this was what had kept - and probably was keeping - Lindor from passing on, then the Vodouist might not have wanted to have it be removable. Not without cutting off his hand. Did Chuck have to do that? He didn't have a knife, and this was… There!

Something snapped, and the bracelet came off. He gathered it in the shirt, then wrapped the head in it as well.

"Done!" he said. "We can leave."

Instead of answering, Sarah fired a burst from her rifle.

It seemed that leaving would be a little more difficult than Chuck had thought.

Sarah fired another shot at the thug on the other side of the square, missing but driving the man to take cover behind the corner. It was obvious that Lindor's men hadn't been mind-controlled - at least not the group attacking them. And that Bane hadn't kept them distracted enough. "We need to fall back," she told Chuck. They were too exposed here.

"Uh… where to?"

She glanced behind for a moment, to adjust the map in her head. There was the road they had taken with the pickup, but it was too exposed - and they would risk running into the forces chasing Casey and the others. That left crossing the stream and going west. She shot another bullet at the corner, to discourage any rush, and activated her comm. "Position?"

"I'm near the beach," Bane replied. "Still under fire."

The beach. The fishing boats. "We'll head there as well," she told Bane. "Hold out."

Sarah glanced back. Chuck had stripped off his shirt and used it to carry Lindor's severed head. The barbarian look didn't fit him, in her opinion. "We need to get to the beach," she told him.

"Aren't the enemies between us and the beach?"

"Yes. We'll sneak around them."

"Uh… ok."

It was better than trying to break through their lines. And there was a route through the smaller alleys. "Come," she said firing again, then falling back under cover of the wall. "We'll go through that house." She pointed at the big house behind them. It looked too shabby to be Lindor's or Oba's. Probably the mayor's.

The door looked sturdy and locked, but the windows weren't much of an obstacle, though she had to help Chuck climb in without cutting himself on the remains of the glass panes. Apparently, the Intersect's skills weren't working any more.

They hurried through the cluttered - and dusty - house to the backdoor. She took point, checking the yard. Clear. But their pursuers would be close behind. And she was down to one magazine for her rifle. "Go!" she said, pointing at the fence. "And head left after clearing it."

She covered the back of the house while Chuck scrambled over the fence, then followed him. A shot went past her right when she dropped to the ground - the enemy had arrived.

She fired back through a gap in the fence, then rolled to the side behind a stone pillar. "Chuck!" She nodded to her left, the direction of the beach.

He ran in a crouch while she covered him with two more shots. Seventeen left. Not ideal.

As soon as he had reached the temporary safety of the corner, she dashed out of cover herself. More shots rang out, but didn't even come close, and a moment later, she slid to a stop next to Chuck. "Go!" she snapped.

They rushed down the back alley. If the enemy wasn't incompetent, they would be trying to flank them, Or overtake them. That meant… She reached the next corner and crouched, aiming down the alley to the main road.

A few seconds later, a man appeared, running. She shot him before he could react, then rushed on - still going towards the beach, roughly. But they would have to cross the main road at one point, to reach Bane.

They took the next corner, and Sarah led them to the main road. Their enemies would have become more cautious after losing one man, which would slow them down. A glance around the corner confirmed it - two more were just about to sprint past the next alley.

Sarah shot at them, hitting one in the leg, and both took cover. She bit her lower lip for a moment - they had to risk it. "I'll cover us," she whispered. "Run across the street!"

He didn't argue, and she slid around the corner, firing as they ran. She used ten more bullets, missing with all of them, but so did the enemy, and Chuck and Sarah were on the beach side of the main road.

Now all they had to do was to reach the beach and get a fishing boat. And escape the village without getting shot. And gather up Bane.

They sprinted down the next alley. Chuck tried not to think of what exactly was hitting his leg with each step. And hoped that his trousers were still wet from the trip in the stream, not from the blood leaking out of the severed head.

And, panting and struggling to keep up with Sarah, he once more promised himself that he would run harder in the mornings. Would the Intersect's skill take exhaustion into account? Or would he try to accomplish something, only to fail utterly? He'd have to ask Dad about that.

He shook his head. He was running for his life; he had to focus.

The alley had several turns, which was a good thing because it meant any pursuit couldn't shoot them from far behind. But it also meant they couldn't see too far ahead, and might unexpectedly run into some guards.

Or, as it turned out, a wall. Shit.

But as Chuck was about to turn and backtrack, Sarah sped up, running straight at the corner where the wall met the house next to them, jumped, kicked off the other wall, and landed on top of the obstacle barring their way. "Jump, Chuck!" she yelled, holding out her hand as she straddled the wall.

He blinked, then clenched his teeth and ran towards her. He could do this. He had to do this. It would be great if the Intersect took over right now. He pushed off, slinging himself at the wall - at her - one hand reaching for hers.

And she grabbed it. He pulled himself up, feet scrabbling for purchase on the brick wall. He weighed more than her, even without the severed head and assault rifle on his back, and if he managed to drag her down with him… But he reached the top, Lindor's head smacking against the wall as he grabbed the top of it, then dragged himself over it.

"Down!" Sarah suddenly yelled, and he felt her hand on his belt before she heaved, and both of them tumbled down as several shots rang out.

Their enemies had caught up. Well, they had to go over the wall as well, now.

"Move!" Sarah pushed him forward. He reached the next corner - there was the beach ahead - and glanced back. Sarah was moving backwards, rifle at the shoulder. Something appeared on top of the wall, and she fired. A head flew back with a spray of blood.

"That'll hold them for a while. Look for a boat, a fast one," she snapped, falling further back.

A fast boat. A fast boat. He scanned the beach. Fishing boat. Fishing boat. Old sailing fishing boat. Rowboat. That one looked fast. It also looked like it was missing an engine.

He blinked. This was a village ruled by a drug lord. They wouldn't bother with old boats or fishing boats. And there was a boathouse there, down the beach.

He started to run. Obas or Lindor would have kept his private craft in the boathouse. Well-maintained so he would have been able to set out whenever he wanted. It would have been the fastest boat in the village. Perfect.

When the armed man stepped out from the boathouse, gun rising to aim at him, Chuck realised that drug lords also tended to have their toys under guard. He dived to the ground, rolling through the sand, as the man fired. Missed! He scrambled for his rifle, but the sling had slipped, and there came the guard…

"Chuck!" Sarah shot the man down with a burst and dashed forward. "Are you hurt?"

"No!" He spat out some sand.

She passed him and grabbed the rifle from the dead thug. "Come!"

He got up, almost falling down again, and fell into a run. They were horribly exposed.

As if someone had read his thoughts, more shots were fired, and bullets kicked up sand next to him.

Sarah returned fire, crouching and moving so Chuck wouldn't block her line of sight. And drawing fire, he realised. For him.

He reached the boathouse and whirled around, finally managing to bring his own gun to bear. "Sarah!" He started firing. Covering fire - he didn't have to hit anyone. And he didn't hit anyone.

She jumped up and dashed towards him. "Get the boat moving!" she yelled, whirling to take over at the door.

"Yes," he replied, turning around. A shot broke through the wall next to him, and he ducked with a shriek. "I'm OK!" he yelled before she could be distracted.

There was the boat he had expected. It looked fast, more modern than the fishing boats outside… he flashed.

It was a 2004 Stingray 180. And he knew exactly how to handle it.

A minute later, the engine was running. "Sarah! We need to open the doors!"

She heard him, touched her ear - her comm - and sprinted along the wall towards the front of the boathouse. Towards the gate. "Start sailing!" she yelled, then kicked the bar keeping the gate closed way.

He pushed the throttle, and the boat started to move - faster than he expected. But Sarah was ready, nimbly jumping down into.

Then they were on the water, speeding away.

"Drive in a wide circle," she yelled over the noise from the engines. "We'll pick up Bane at the mouth of the stream."

He looked to their side, calculated the course - and pushed the throttle all the way up.

"Hold on!" he yelled as the boat shot through the water, cutting through the waves. The remaining thugs were shooting at them, but Chuck couldn't pay attention. Just keeping this monster on course and from capsizing took all he had. But they rapidly approached the stream's mouth, and… there was Bane, sprinting across the beach, firing wildly at some unseen enemies before jumping into the water where it was deep enough for the boat to approach.

Which Chuck did, slowing down as Sarah started to shoot again. But she was alone, and they were a big target. Chuck saw several shots hit the boat. Hopefully, they wouldn't do any damage. Well, the craft only had to last an hour longer, or so.

Then a burst hit the windshield, and he flinched. "Hurry!" he yelled. That had been far too close!

"I'm out of ammo," Sarah announced. "Hand me your gun!"

He managed to pass her the G3 without getting entangled in its sling, and Sarah started firing again just as Bane finally climbed inside.

Chuck gritted his teeth and pushed the throttle up again. He took a tight turn, almost running aground, but they made it and soon were out of range of the thugs' weapons.

Mission accomplished.