Tourniquet

(Here's my next one, and it's ACTIONY! Forgive me for any small mistakes I might make with this one, because I'm legally blind and trying to describe a gunfight... It sometimes doesn't work too well, but I did my best. Anyway, enjoy!)

Chapter 14

BANG! BANG!

Miles hit the ground upon hearing the two gunshots very close by. He saw Phoenix duck as well and then stand up again, looking around. With a lurch, Miles realized that the two agents that had been with them lay motionless in the bushes before them, an eerie black color spreading slowly along the leaves and grass.

"Goddamn it," he heard Tilea hiss. "Run!"

Before he even had time to think, she was pulling him along as another shot rang out. Miles felt the rush of air as it whizzed past his ear and he nearly dived for the ground again.

"Keep going!" Tilea shouted at him as she stopped and withdrew the AK47 from its holster on her back. A wave of sound erupted around him as a barrage of bullets exploded from her gun while she continued to move toward the house. Two shadowed figures suddenly fell from where they had stood and the rapid-fire ceased.

Tilea caught up with Edgeworth, her gun still in her hands. "I think they know we're here," she stated, a bit out of breath. He smiled a little at her intended obviousness and kept running, the pistol clutched firmly in his hand, held at the ready.

Unfortunately, he didn't get too far. An outstretched hand closed around his throat, stopping him and pulling him backward. He was slammed hard against a tree and pinned there, unable to breathe for the amount of pressure being placed upon his windpipe. Little stars were dancing in front of his eyes, and he was so dazed that fighting back was impossible. He was brought back for a split second when he heard his attacker cock the gun that was now pointing directly to the center of the prosecutor's forehead.

A moment later, they were both on the ground, the shot still ringing in the air. Miles realized very quickly that he had not been the one hit and looked up to see Ares standing quite a ways away, a long rifle in his hands. "Go ahead!" the kid shouted, looking once again through the scope for any further danger.

Miles gave him an awkward wave and shakily got to his feet. He was really starting to feel the effects of his blood loss and a little bit of pain had returned to his wounded side. Still, he couldn't stop to rest; there was no time.

Miles once more caught up with Tilea who was preparing to enter the old house. "Ready?" she asked, her AK47 still in-hand.

"Yeah," he replied, breathing very heavily.

"You'd better be." With that, she rushed forward and rammed her shoulder into the closed door, knocking it clean off its hinges. "FREEZE! FBI!"

The men waiting inside all raised their guns, fully prepared for a fight. Miles and Tilea were outnumbered three to one.

"Lower your weapons!" Tilea roared, her hand poised on the trigger.

One of the men began to laugh. "Is this what the FBI sends on its most dangerous missions? A wounded prosecuting attorney and a school girl?!" The rest joined in the laughter, but stopped when Tilea did as well.

"You should know better than to underestimate me," she said, an evil smirk upon her lips. "High schoolers are better shots than most police officers." Without giving them another chance to do anything, she opened fire.

Instinctively, Miles ducked down, new to being this close to a gun fight. He watched as Tilea's initial attack took out four of the six men with little effort. Then, she abandoned the empty gun and took to close-range tactics. "Go find Franziska!" she called to him as she swung one of them by his arm into a wall and dropkicked the other to the floor.

'Good idea,' he thought, moving quickly from the room. He heard gunshots coming from another area of the house and found himself moving in that direction.

Miles had to throw himself sideways to avoid a broken plank of steel that had been sent flying through the air from the battle being waged at the opposite end of the building. He remained hidden as he watched the others struggle with another large group of 'henchmen.' He couldn't help but wonder why so many people had come to Sanders' aid.

Phoenix Wright was fighting closest to him, using his gun to choke a man against a wall. Miles was surprised at how ferocious the normally gentle-natured lawyer had suddenly become. He really did have a fair amount of physical strength, and he was demonstrating his power quite well, especially considering the man he was fighting was much bigger. Wright was screaming something at the man he faced, but over the rest of the noise, Miles couldn't understand him.

On the other side of the room, Detective Gumshoe was struggling to escape a headlock, and failing miserably. However, he managed to get a decent grip on his pistol and fired it at his opponent. The bullet didn't hit the man, but the sound had frightened him and caused him to release the detective. Nearby lay a motionless body covered in blood, and Edgeworth realized with another jolt of fear that it was the third unknown agent that had accompanied them.

In the center of the room was Ares, taking on the remaining three at once. The young man was rather skinny for a kid his age, and the masked men were having quite a bit of trouble getting a hold of him. He was very fast and limber, able to maneuver his way out of almost any situation they forced him into. Once, Miles saw him duck under a crowbar that one man had swung at his head, slide between his attacker's legs, and jump up behind him, planting a bullet in the back of his neck.

A yelp sounded from nearby and Miles looked over to see Wright lying on his back on the floor, a thin trickle of blood running from his forehead. He looked up to see the man that had earlier been completely overpowered standing over him, trying to catch his breath. After a moment, he reached to the desk behind him and lifted what lay upon it into his hand. Miles immediately recognized the German gun. The sound of rapid fire filled the room as the man held the trigger on his Uzi, aiming to take Ares down, the most dangerous of the three remaining rescue team members.

The young man reacted quickly, diving for cover behind an old steel shelving unit. One of the surviving men he had been fighting was not so lucky, however; his bleeding corpse joined that of the other two that had been slain.

'I have to find Franziska,' Miles thought, terrified at how the tide of this battle had suddenly turned. He wanted to help them, but he had been giving his mission, and it was obvious she wasn't here. He tore his eyes from the scene and turned down a long hallway, hoping to find her alive and safe in one of these rooms.

He found nothing behind each door that he opened until he came to the very last one at the end of the hall. It was closed, and an attempt to turn the knob told him that it was also locked.

Now sure that this had to be it, his body seemed to give him a natural boost of adrenaline, and he began throwing his shoulder against the door, determined to gain entry.

The door was sturdy, but his fifth try proved adequate and it flew open, banging hard against the wall behind it. Due to the force at which he had thrown himself at the door, Miles already stood in the room when it opened, and his eyes darted among its contents; he ignored the pain in his shoulder, though he was sure he had bruised the bone.

When his gaze finally fell upon her, he nearly failed to stop himself from being sick. Cold terror swept through him, and for a moment he couldn't move from where he stood. He had expected she would be hurt, but this… this was unreal.

Franziska lay face-down against the far wall of the room. She was completely naked and her body was covered in blood, dark bruises, and fresh welts. She didn't even look up when he made his rather noisy entry; she just lay still, shaking and jerking with involuntary sobs.

He advanced toward her slowly at first, in total shock at the sight before him. However, as if a switch had been flipped, he was suddenly sprinting the length of the large room and was on his knees beside her, having released his grip on his pistol. "Oh my God… Franziska!" With unsteady breath and a pounding heart that banged against his ribs, he began scanning the room for something to cover her with. He saw that the beautiful outfit she had been wearing earlier was strewn across the floor, torn and useless now.

He kept searching; there had to be something. His attention was soon drawn to the thick black-out curtain draped over the large window on the wall beside them. Well, it wouldn't make the best blanket, but it was all he could find; it would have to do. Miles stood and yanked the huge piece of fabric down, pulling the metal bars from the top of it and casting them aside. He crouched again and—as carefully and gently as he could—wrapped up Franziska's broken body.

As he was doing this, the girl started to panic, unaware of what was going on. Her crying became more frightened and she began to thrash, making it difficult for Miles to get the sheet of fabric around her. Even when she was wrapped snuggly, she still attempted to escape him, and Miles didn't know what to do. It was obvious she didn't know who he was.

Feeling as if he too would start crying, he tried to shake her. "Franziska. Franziska! It's me, Miles. Franziska!"

"G-get away from me!" she choked out through her sobs. "Somebody help!!!"

Tears of frustration and fear had made their way onto Miles' cheeks, for he wasn't concerned with pride or dignity at this point. "Franziska! Please, calm down! It's me!"

"Let go of me!"

"Franziska, look at me!"

She suddenly stopped thrashing and lay still again, something having clicked in her brain. She was still on her stomach, but her head was turned to the side so that she was looking directly at him. He knelt there watching her, his breathing ragged and forced. He saw her blink a few times, as if trying to focus or clear her vision. She then stared at him for a long time without moving, no longer crying at all.

When Miles felt it was safe to move again, he leaned forward, placing a hand gingerly on her upper back. He felt her give a slightly jerk, but that was all. She continued to stare blankly up at him, and he had to take this as a sign of recognition, for it was obvious that she was incapable of doing much else.

"It's…okay now," He swallowed hard; his throat was painfully dry, making his speech cracked and raspy. He couldn't seem to catch his breath, and his face was still wet with both sweat and tears, causing it to shine in the dim fluorescent lighting from overhead. "I-I'm here. You're going to…be all right. Just… stay calm."

Cautiously, he took her into his arms, allowing her head to rest against his left shoulder, the one that hadn't been used to break the door open. She was limp and still trembling, the pain and fear reflected in her pale, battered face. Small drops of blood were leaking from the corners of her mouth and a thin stream ran from an open wound just below her left eye. It was a ghastly sight, and Miles had never seen anything like this before. He felt paralyzed; this had to be some kind of nightmare.

Just then, a voice from behind him made every muscle in his body tense; he couldn't even look over his shoulder.

"So kind of you to finally join us, Mr. Edgeworth. Better late than never, I suppose."