Come home

I'd like to appologise for the late arrival of this chapter (I sound like a train station). I've been ill for a few days, but I'm fine now. I told a few of you (and I think it's unfair to give a teaser unequally) that someone would die before the end of this fic.

22/8/98

"Control?" Adam's voice over the satellite link. "First package is legit."

"Control receiving you." Fiona replied, from half way round the globe. "Proceed to second target." Somewhere, on the streets of Eritrea, on the North East coast of Africa, Adam set off, Zaffar presumably close behind. The young man had taken to following Adam around, even when on home turf.

"There." Zaffar said quietly. "That man has a gun in his pocket."

"Avoid." Chris ordered. "They'll shoot you on suspicion of being a foreign agent here. Go round." Fiona felt her heart begin to pick up speed.

"There's another one." Adam's voice this time.

"And one there." Fiona could hear the fear mounting in Zaffar's voice, though he was trying to hide it.

"Chris..." Adam said slowly. "There are men with dark glasses and ill-concealed guns on all sides. Please advise." Fiona looked anxiously up at Chris.

"Break the line, as fast as you can, then get to ground and wait."

"Second target?" Adam asked.

"If you think you're blown, forget it." There was a moment's silence, apart from the sounds of Adam and Zaffar breathing. She hated this. If she was out in the field next to Adam, hearing, seeing, feeling the danger with him, it thrilled her. Being half way round the world hearing it over a satellite link was horrible.

"He looked right at us as we passed." Zaffar said. "On opposite sides."

"He's following us." Adam added. Zaffar was breathing harder.

"Well, lose him." Chris said unhelpfully. "Split up and meet Firebrand at the rendez-vous."

"If one of us gets there first and leads them to Firebrand, Firebrand has to go. The other one of us would be stranded, and probably killed. They know what we look like." Adam replied

It felt like a very long time just waiting. Fiona knew what Adam and Zaffar would be doing; stopping randomly, unlikely turns, entering and leaving buildings unpredictably. If the only aim of the armed men was to kill them, either of them could die at any moment.

"Chris," Adam said, eventually, he sounded out of breath. "This isn't working. There are at least seven of them and they're coordinating well. We can't shake them."

"Then break for Firebrand. You can't fight. Stay to the houses as long as you can. Dash the rest of the distance."

"300 metres on open ground can be a very long way to run."

"They're waiting till there are no witnesses."Zaffar agreed. "Kind of redefines `run for your life`." Fiona bit her lip.

"Control to Firebrand." She said, over the other channel. "Prepare to leave imminently. Operatives may be under pursuit when they reach you." She could hear the nervousness in her own voice.

"Copy that, control. Standing by."

"Gun out." Adam's voice, presumably he was speaking to Zaffar. "On my count, we run, for all we're worth."

"OK." He sounded so scared.

"Three. Two. One." For maybe a count of five, there was no sound, but rushing air, Adam and Zaffar breathing. Then the shots started. Fiona winced as though they had been fired at her. Zaffar breathed what might have been a fragment of a prayer in Arabic. If Adam reacted at all, she didn't hear it. But there were no cries of pain, no signs that Adam or Zaffar had been hit.

Then someone cried out.

"Adam!" Fiona shouted, heart in her mouth.

"Zaffar!" Adam shouted. Zaffar shouted too, incomprehensibly.

"What's happening?" Chris added his voice to the mess. The shots continued, some closer now.

"Control." Adam's voice, breathing very hard. Someone was gasping in pain.

"Copy." Fiona replied at once.

"Control, Zaffar's hit. We're behind a boulder and pinned down."

"Can he walk?" Chris asked, inhumanly calm.

"No." Adam replied. Fiona heard a bullet land close to him. "Not far or fast."

"At all." Zaffar corrected. His voice was tight with pain.

"How serious is his wound?"

"I haven't looked carefully, I'm holding off half a dozen armed hostiles with a pistol!" Adam shouted.

"Likely to kill him in the next hour?"

"Pressure." Adam said, presumably to Zaffar. "If you die, it will be from blood loss. Don't think so, but these guys are going to overrun us. Is Firebrand armed?"

"Yes." Fiona replied. "Two assault rifles, two pistols."

"Chris, if you don't send them to us now, we are going to die. How long will it take the locals to figure out all they have to do is keep two firing over our heads to keep us down, then flank us. I'm out of ammo and half way through Zaffar's, then we're dead, if not before."

"Chris-" Fiona started desperately. He nodded.

"Control to Firebrand."

"We can hear shots, control."

"Go to them. One of the operatives is injured."

"Copy."

Hearing the gunfight over the next minute was unbearable, knowing any one of the shots she heard could kill Adam, or disable Firebrand, stranding them. Adam shouted for help getting Zaffar in to the truck. Zaffar yelled as he was moved. Adam shouted at the driver to go. Firebrand's engine growled.

"Are you clear?" Chris asked as the shots faded.

"They don't have transport." Adam panted. "We're out of their range of fire. I'd say so." Fiona dropped her head in to her hands, sighing with relief.

"Firebrand put the tarps back on and hide the guns."Chris ordered. "Adam, help."

"They can handle that. I need to look at Zaffar."

"OK. How badly is he hurt? He's being quite quiet." That was true. Zaffar hadn't said anything since he'd been put in the truck, but he was still breathing heavily. Then he yelled.

"Sorry." Adam said. "This has to be done." Zaffar growled and cursed in pain a few more times, before Adam concluded. "It winged him, it looks more like a bad knife wound than a gunshot. There's no sign of the bullet. Where's our nearest friendly medic?"

"Hold on." Fiona replied, pulling the database up. "Sorry Adam, the only one in a 100 mile radius is on the far side of the capital. You won't make it undetected."

"Airfield then?" One of Firebrand's crew asked.

"Airfield." Adam confirmed. "Morphine?"

"Sorry mate. Coedine's as good as it gets."

"That's crap." Zaffar remarked, voice still contorted with pain.

"Chris, can we go off coms for a bit?" Adam asked.

"Of course." Chris replied. Everyone knew why. Having a bullet wound cleaned and dressed was excruciatingly painful, no one bore it quietly (well, Adam bore it more quietly than most). Adam had just spared Zaffar the indignity of being heard. Fiona dropped her head in to her hands, sighed, then looked up.

"Chris,"

"Yes?"

"Don't do that to me again."