Undercover (Boyxboy)

Chapter Sixteen

"Come on, we have to go," I ordered.

"Wait, what about George?" Tom asked, looking back to the building frantically.

I just shook my head solemnly and he knew instantly that he was gone. The three of us stood there for a couple of seconds, horrified at what we were about to do - leave a man behind. But we couldn't go back for him. Not with Michael Taylor and how ever many bodyguards were still alive waiting to pounce.

It was our policy at the agency - if the risks outweigh bringing home a fallen agent, the fallen agent must be left behind. I only prayed that we would be able to come back in the coming days and that his body would still be there. George deserved better.

Hugh eased himself into the back seat beside Harry who was staring into space looking utterly traumatised. I wanted to go back there with him and hold him - rock him to sleep and let him forget about this nightmare while he slept.

But I had the keys and we didn't have time to mess around over who was driving. I looked to Tom before we got into the car.

"We need to make sure they can't drive after us if they even make it out of that building!" I said, not wasting any time and running to the car that Hugh had driven them here in. Tom went to the car himself and George had come in. We shot holes in every tyre, sprinting back to the car.

Tom jumped into the front seat beside me and once we were all in, I swerved the car towards the small road that led us out of here, the tyres screeching once we were off the gravel.

"I tried to pull George out, I swear - I couldn't lift him with my foot though. I swear I tried..." Hugh seemed to be going into shock. I looked into the rear view mirror. Harry was staring out of the window, his face void of emotion.

I was afraid that if Hugh kept blubbering, Harry would snap. I felt a heavy pressure in my chest as we drove further and further away. We had left George behind - our friend George who had been with us since day one. My lip trembled and I begged my mind to forget what I'd seen, if even for an hour.

I worried about Harry profusely - George and he were best friends. I mean, I knew that I was Harry's best friend, but we were different. He loved George differently to me - they had their own relationship. I was friends with George, too. But I was nowhere near as emotionally invested as Harry.

Tom was reloading his gun and was ignoring the quiet sniffles that were coming from the back seat. I wanted to tell Hugh to shut up but didn't have the heart.

I assumed Harry would lose it in about thirty seconds anyway. He didn't deal with death well - we had lost another friend of ours, Freddie a few years back. He had been killed in an explosion that happened in a building not unlike the warehouse. He and Harry were the last two agents in the burning building, trying to get everyone out. But Harry was the only one who came out alive with two children in his arms.

I had cried in relief when I saw him emerge through the flames - I had been two seconds away from running in there and getting him. A few seconds after he emerged, the building exploded.