Ethan
I heard a gunshot and froze. The sadistic laughter from behind me told me that Michael Taylor had taken the shot and we all knew who his prime target would be.
I stopped in my tracks, a horrified shout about to leave my mouth as I anticipated seeing Harry's dead body on the ground. From Michael's laughter and relatively good aim, it had to be Harry that he hit - he wouldn't have missed that shot. I felt a wave of slashing pain run through me and I didn't want to look back.
I was going to kill him with my bare hands - I wanted to see the life drain from his face as I squeezed it out of him. I didn't care if this building brought me down with it while I did so - I had always said that my life would be over once Harry's was, anyway.
But when I turned, it wasn't Harry on the ground. And I felt ashamed to my very core that a wave a knee-buckling relief shot through my body.
"No!" I heard a roar and looked to see a very alive Harry trying to scramble up off the ground outside and run back into the building I was still standing in.
I ran for the door to Harry before Michael could take another shot at us and grabbed Harry's hand, pulling him with all of my might.
"We can't leave him!" he sobbed as he eventually stopped fighting against my grip. We were sprinting as fast as we humanely could away from the front entrance.
"We have to," I replied grimly. The sight was engrained in my mind but the previous panic I'd had, thinking it was Harry, was enough to drive my feet on. I wouldn't let that man get his hands on him.
I still had the pair of keys in my pocket for the car we drove here in. We had parked them around the other side of the building and I prayed the cars weren't damaged.
I could see in Harry's eyes that he would take any opportunity to run back so I opened the back seat and shoved him in, slamming the door behind him and locking the car. I heard footsteps behind me and swung around to see who it was.
"Are we all here? I think I saw Michael running back into the building - I didn't have time to wait around and see," Tom panted. Sweat was dripping off of him and he had a multiple cuts and bruises. "Where are Hugh and George?"
"I -," I began but was silenced again by the sound of more footsteps running towards us. Tom heard them too and immediately perked up, standing in front of me with his gun poised.
"Who's there?" he shouted. The sun had gone down and the navy sky was a huge hindrance. We couldn't see anything that wasn't five feet in front of us.
"I said who's there?" Tom replied, his finger over the trigger.
"It's me, it's me!"
Hugh could barely walk, never mind run from the gunshot wound to his leg. He stumbled passed us and leaned against the car for support, his chest heaving. I immediately rushed to his aid, supporting his weight.
"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.
He had a complete breakdown that night and lost it at anyone who tried to talk to him. The next day he returned to his routine of hiding his feelings behind a smile or stupid offensive jokes. This mission had changed us though - I didn't know how he was going to react. And that petrified me.
"I just can't believe it... I can't... I should have done more..." Hugh whimpered.
"Hugh," Harry snapped. Here we go - he was about to fuck Hugh out of it, "It wasn't your fault, okay? Stop blaming yourself. We need to stop thinking about it and get out of here. You need to get to a hospital."
His tone was reasonable and the previous trauma seemed to have vanished. It was strange - I didn't know whether to be worried or relieved that he was being so reasonable.
"Yes Hugh, you do need to get to a hospital," Tom agreed.
Harry had stripped the sleeve off of his white shirt and was wrapping it around Harry's leg just above the gunshot wound. "Where's the nearest one?"
"There's one about ten minutes from here," Hugh offered. He was getting paler by the minute and getting him to a medical vicinity was our priority now.
"I think we should split up - it's very sloppy if the four of us are in the same car together. I think the best thing to do is if someone brings Hugh to the hospital and the other two find a hide-out. Then we all meet," Tom suggested.
I was about to utter my complete disagreement at splitting up but Harry interrupted me.
"I think that's a good idea - I'll bring Hugh to the hospital and the two of you find somewhere we can set up base for a while. I'll come straight to you once I know he's alright."
I didn't like the thought of splitting up - not one bit. But I knew that they were technically right. It was extremely sloppy agent-work to have all four targets in the one auto-mobile. If we were all killed then there would be nobody left to stop Michael.
Dawson was still out there - and he knew all of our tricks. We had to keep our heads down for the next few days and suss the situation out. And keeping our heads down included not having four beaten-up and bruised men all travelling in the same car.
I caught Harry's eye in the rear-view mirror and he gave me a hardened look. He nodded at me as if to say that he understood my hesitation but that this was the right decision. I knew that he wouldn't be happy until he saw Hugh safe in the hospital.
"Fine - where could we get another car?"
"I have another one hidden in an underground car park," Tom said. I raised an eyebrow - how many fucking cars did he have?
"It was just in case," he added hastily, getting embarrassed.
"Is the car park far from here?"
"No - literally two minutes away."
I followed his directions until we were parked beside a rather sleek looking Volkswagen. Tom and I transferred into that car so Hugh wouldn't have to move. He stayed seated in the back seat when we all got out of the car.
I stood by the driver's door, waiting for Harry. Once he was near me he reached out his arms and brought me into a tight hug. The gesture honestly brought tears to my eyes - I hadn't expected him to be any way affectionate.
"Are you okay?" I whispered into his neck, clinging to him tightly.
"I don't know - but I am for now," he replied sadly, kissing my cheek as he ran his fingers through my hair soothingly, "I'll see you once I'm finished in the hospital - text me the address and I'll be there in no time. You don't have to worry," he added, leaning back to look me in the eye.
We were both devastated by George's death. But I knew from his look that he shared my relief - the relief that it wasn't either of us who died.
I leaned in and kissed him gently, lingering for as long as I could before I knew that we had to go. He whimpered slightly when I pulled away.
"I'll see you soon," I said gently, getting into the passenger seat of the car Tom was driving.
"Not if I see you first," he retorted with a cheeky smirk. I loved that cheeky smirk.
"Keep your phone on you, Harry - is it charged? Once I text you the address I want a reply straight away to know you're okay." I said sternly.
"Yes, it is and yes I will. Love you, too," he smiled as he eased himself into the driver's seat.
"This shows you really do care about me little brother," I heard Hugh say in a delighted voice once Harry sat into their car.
"Shut up, Lawman," Harry replied, rolling his eyes yet smirking.
And then they just sped away and were gone. I wanted to slam my head against the dashboard as my gut gave an all-too-familiar twinge.
I chose to ignore it though - nothing else could go wrong. Not today.
"He'll be okay - he's a tough one," Tom said, trying to be comforting.
"I know," I snapped back. I was a bundled of nerves and grief - I knew being snappy at Tom wouldn't help but I couldn't help my temper at this precise moment.
We drove in silence, avoiding the main streets and taking back alleys as much as possible. I worried every second for Harry but threw my irrational fears to the wind.
There was no way Michael and his gang would be going anywhere anytime soon, even if they managed to escape from the collapsing building. Tom had said he'd seen Michael run back in - when we were driving away, the front door we had escaped from was practically barricaded with fallen debris.
"This looks good," Tom muttered and pulled into a cheap looking motel. We couldn't stay anywhere that was fancy enough to need our card details, which could be traced, so cheap motels that took cash was all we could risk.
I had been shocked to see Dawson hadn't arrived with Michael earlier - I had been counting on his presence so he could be taken out, too. It was strange... I wondered where he was.
"I'll sort the room out - you can text Harry the address," Tom said, eyeing me. He was trying to gather just how injured I was - but not physically. Emotionally. I kept my gaze steady and nodded.
"Fine."
We had to stop pretending we were ever going to be friends - and what better time than when one of my actual friends died. Might as well kill two birds with one stone. I cringed at the saying.
I texted Harry the address and told him to reply once he got the message. It was our way of knowing we were okay. Whenever we texted while on missions we always replied instantly and continuously until one of us wrote 'END'.
That was our only indication that we were ending the conversation because we had to or wanted to - not because we were injured or dead. It had actually worked over the years. When Harry had been driven off the road in Madrid one year in the middle of texting me, I knew that once he didn't respond something was up.
We located him instantly through the GPS on his phone in the ditch with his steaming car, unconscious.
I waited patiently for his reply now, tapping my fingers against my knee. The sky was completely black now - there were no stars. It was odd.
Tom emerged from the shabby office of the motel and parked the car. Harry still hadn't replied.
He led us to the room he had booked - a family one with two single beds and a double. I was glad for the extra space compared to the hotel we had stayed in the night before. It gave me room to breathe. Harry still hadn't replied.
I looked at the time I had sent the message. Fifteen minutes ago - it was okay. He had once not replied to my text for half an hour. That would be my limit - half an hour. Another fifteen minutes and it was time to worry.
But it wouldn't come to that. He was only driving Hugh to the hospital, claiming he had found him in the street, delirious and not able to remember his name. I was sure Hugh could play the part - he was already traumatised enough from what had just happened. Harry could come back here to us once Hugh was being looked after.
It was essential Hugh's actual name wasn't logged into the system - Dawson would track that easily. We were taking a risk by bringing him there anyway, but we had no choice.
We would go back tomorrow and sneak him out of the hospital once they had worked on his leg. There was no way any of us could stay there with him - they would question us and we would have to sign in ourselves and give ID if we were there for long enough.
We would get the supplies he needed tomorrow and bring him with us. He wasn't safe in that hospital and the less time he spent there, the better.
"Why are you so fidgety?" Tom said. His voice startled me slightly - we had been sitting in the room at the frayed and worn kitchen table in silence. Our guns were on top of the table, both of our hands poised and ready for action if needed.
"One of my friends was just killed and the man I love is out there with another injured friend of mine - I think I have a right to be fidgety," I replied harshly.
Tom looked hurt by my snappy tone for a millisecond before setting a determined look on his face.
"I've told you - Harry is a tough cookie. Once Hugh is sorted he'll be back here and we can start planning our next move - okay?" Tom knew that we had fucked up majorly today. It had gone far from planned and now we were all practically sitting ducks, waiting to be gunned down.
We wouldn't be making any 'plans' until Harry arrived. I wasn't going to suddenly bombard him with our next step - he was still traumatised from the first fucked up seemingly 'flawless' plan. He needed to be part of our every step.
Another thirteen minutes passed. Harry had one more minute to reply until I started to worry properly. I sighed and kept my eyes on the digital clock of the shitty phone I had bought. We had dumped our agency phones and cars to ensure we were completely rid of them. We couldn't take any chances.
"Stop staring at your phone, he's probably too busy to reply!"
"No - it's our rule. The second you see the text, you reply. I told him to keep his phone on him - he wouldn't have left half an hour pass without replying!" My words were starting to scare me now that I was vocalising my fears.
"Give him another twenty minutes - we can't just jump the gun because he's slightly late replying to a text!" Tom tried to reason.
"Yes we can if my knowledge of his safety banks on this text!" I retorted. I huffed and flung the phone back onto the kitchen table, "Fine - I'll give him another ten minutes. But after that, we're going to the hospital. Or I'll go if you're too scared."
"No - I'll go, too." Tom replied instantly. I knew that he was still protective over me - and I was of him, to a degree. It was just near-impossible to think of anyone else's safety when Harry's was in such peril all of the time.
The minutes flew by and my leg started tapping erratically underneath the table. I was trying to keep a cool head and stay calm but once again, my gut twisted uncomfortably.
Before it reached ten minutes I stood up. "Okay - I don't care, I'm going."
Tom started to argue until my phone beeped. A wave of relief, not unlike the one I'd felt when I'd known Harry hadn't taken the brunt of Michael's shot, washed through me.
"Thank God," I whispered, taking my phone out of my pocket to read his message.
"I told you!" Tom said in a confident voice. I hadn't noticed until now how quiet he had been as those minutes flew by - he had been nervous too.
I opened the text and that knee-buckling relief was replaced with sheer horror.
'CODE RED - DAWSON AND TEAM WAITING AT HOSPITAL FOR US - HUGH GOT AWAY AND IS GOING TO YOU - WAIT FOR HIM - I'M HIDING OUT. DESTROYING THIS PHONE TO ELIMINATE YOUR LOCATION IN CASE I'M CAUGHT - WON'T GO TO YOU IN CASE I LEAD THEM THERE - I'M SORRY - I LOVE YOU.'
"NO!" I shouted, pressing the dial button to ring him. It wouldn't even dial - he had already destroyed the phone.
Tom ran to me as I dropped to my knees. "What is it? Ethan what is it?"
I showed him the text, the blood draining from my face. How could I have let him out of my sight? I should have stayed with him. Now God knows where he was going - how could he have destroyed that phone? He was an idiot - it was so typical of him to act so erratically that he didn't even stop and think of what he was doing.
Why didn't he come here with Hugh? Why didn't the two of them run?
I tried ringing Hugh's number but it went straight to voicemail. We had no option - waiting here for Hugh was all we could do.
Well, all Tom could do anyway. I had to go looking for Harry.
I had no idea where he was though or where to find him. How would I find him again? We didn't have set mobile numbers because we kept changing our phones and we couldn't stay in this motel for too long because we could be found here - it was the number one rule of undercover work.
When compromised, move around every one to two days and change your phones. Harry knew that, and with the extremity of this situation, we would have to be gone from here by tomorrow morning. How was he going to find us?
I felt a huge bubble start to expand in my chest. There had never been a time when I hadn't known where Harry was or how to contact him - I had never been left so vulnerable.
The thing that scared me the most was that I could never see him again - would he keep running until it became near-impossible for us to find each other? We couldn't set up social media - the agency would interpret that straight away and find us. We couldn't do anything.
I couldn't report him as a missing person because he was technically dead - when we joined, the agency had even shown us our death certificates, eradicating us from present society.
Or maybe Dawson would find him and kill him. And I would never know spending years trying to find Harry until one day I find out he was killed on the day I lost him.
"Ethan - Ethan!" A painful smack across my left cheek snapped me from my thoughts. I hadn't realised I'd zoned out - my cheeks were wet from tears. When had I cried? "You have to get a grip! Hugh will be here soon and we will find Harry then - he's still alive and he's very good at staying alive. He won't go far without you. So pull yourself together and act like an agent who's looking for a missing man. Otherwise, your soppiness will destroy this whole thing. There is no room for it and I will personally tie you to a chair until we find Harry if you can't hold yourself together. Okay?"
Tom's eyes were on fire and he had such a persona of authority, all I could do was nod. But he was right - he had a point and I knew that if the roles were reversed, I would already be tying him to the chair and not even giving him a second chance.
"Okay - okay. I'm okay," I said huskily and stood up, wiping my eyes. I had to focus my attentions away from my heart and stay strictly on my head. I would find Harry. I was a damn good agent and I wasn't going to stop until I was reunited with him.
There was no point in me running out into danger, searching for a man who was skilled at making himself invisible. He wouldn't go to any places that linked to us - there was no point checking the house or any other places we used to go to. There would definitely be people waiting there for us already - and I was guessing their greetings wouldn't be friendly.
An hour later, Hugh arrived, pounding on our doors. When we let him in he was shaking and sobbing and gasping for air. He was soaking wet from the rain. Tom had stopped me from driving around to find Hugh on his way here - we had assumed that he was coming on foot due to how long it was taking him and there were several routes from the hospital to here. It would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack - an extremely dangerous and deadly haystack, full of ruthless enemies.
"They're going to catch him, they're going to get him," Hugh sobbed as he collapsed onto the couch in a heap.
"No they won't, Hugh. Harry has good survival instincts and has a damn good shot. He will be fine," I was half trying to convince myself, too. I had pulled myself together as best I could. Tom and I had spent the last half hour devising plan after plan - I was trying to put my mindset into agent-mode instead of crazy-worried partner mode.
Hugh laughed humourlessly. "His shot means nothing now with a bullet in his shooting arm."
"What?" Tom spoke up.
"They were waiting for us at A&E. Five or six of them and Dawson. They knew we would go there - how could we have been so stupid as to think that Michael wouldn't contact Dawson and tell him I was injured?" Hugh mopped some rainwater off of his forehead, "Harry walked around the corner into A&E before me, I heard an instant shot and he roared...before I knew it he was pushing me back before I could follow him, shoving me into the nearest room. He told me who was there waiting for us and then told me to come to this address. He slammed the door shut and ran. He - he was bleeding pretty heavily..." Hugh started wailing again, covering his face with his hands in agony. His leg was probably killing him.
"So you weren't spotted?" Tom asked urgently.
"No - Harry had barely walked around the corner when he was hit. I think Dawson was mad at the agent who shot him because it had sent us running before they even got the chance to catch us... I couldn't follow Harry - I could hear them outside the door. They came sprinting around the corner after him once he had closed it. I would have been a dead-man... and now he's probably lying in a ditch somewhere." Hugh was inconsolable and I could tell he felt like a coward for leaving Harry. At this moment, knowing Harry was shot, I couldn't disagree with that.
I refrained from calling him out on this cowardice and instead urged all of the facts out of him. He seemed relieved when I had told him Harry texted me - that meant Harry had gotten away from them in some way to send the text. Harry had taken the keys to their car with him and Hugh had no phone and no wallet so couldn't even reach a taxi rank.
"Okay - it's nearly midnight and there is no way we'll find Harry tonight. He's hidden out somewhere and not even you'll be able to find him, Ethan. Tomorrow we set about tracking him down and getting the fuck out of here. We can think about Dawson and Michael when we're hundreds of miles away and have the time to devise a new plan to take them down. Okay?"
Tom once again took the lead and Hugh and I both nodded. I could feel my throat getting tighter and I really wanted to just lock myself in the bathroom and cry. It was a wimpy move, yes. But I just genuinely couldn't hold it in anymore - I was about to explode. Harry was fucking shot!
"Okay," I choked out, "First thing in the morning we're out of here. Harry will be fine for tonight."
I was trying to reason with myself and calm myself down. Because if I faced facts, they would tell me that Harry wouldn't be alright - not if he was shot. But I couldn't do anything - I couldn't find him and I couldn't tell him what to do. If we left the motel now in the middle of the night, the chances of us being caught were extremely high.
I felt like I was suffocating over these continuous walls closing in on me. No - Harry would be fine. He knew how to survive. He would be fine.
It seemed fate was in a particularly cold and vicious mood, however. I had been about to bring up Hugh's gun-wound and what we were going to do about it again but didn't get the chance. My phone beeped again - it was from an unknown number.
I lunged for it on the table and Hugh and Tom were watching me, wide-eyed.
'Ethan - Harry's in danger. He's in Hugh Lawman's house and he's surrounded. He doesn't have much time. Hurry.'
I threw the phone to Tom so he and Hugh could read it. I grabbed my jacket and my gun, striding for the door.
"Wait! Ethan, who is this from?" Tom shouted, running after me and standing in front of the door, blocking my way.
"I don't know - get out of my fucking way!" I gritted my teeth, trying to slide past him. He wouldn't budge.
"It could be a trap - this could be Dawson!" Tom said desperately. Hugh was standing behind me and looked torn.
"I don't care - if there's any chance that this text is from a friend and not a foe and Harry really isin danger, I would never forgive myself for not going. Now are you in or out?" I asked, feeling my patience running extremely thin.
"In," Hugh said automatically.
Tom debated his answer, biting his lip. I didn't have time for him to assess the positives and negatives.
"Look, do what you want. I'm outta here. Come on Hugh." I pushed Tom out of my way and with the car keys in hand, walked with Hugh to the parked car, supporting some of his weight on the way. He would stay in the car once we got there - the gun-wound must not have been serious if he managed to walk here from the hospital but we couldn't take any more chances.
I was pulling out of the space, tyres screeching, when Tom came running after us, hopping into the back seat.
"I'm in."
"Good - make sure you have ammo," I instructed, speeding towards the highway that would take us to the neighbourhood where this whole journey began.
The question was - would it be where it would end, too?
I'm so happy that I'm finally posting this chapter - I've had exams for the past two weeks and I told myself I was only allowed to write this chapter when they were over to entice me to study haha!
The chapters are extremely fast-paced and full of action so I hope that you're feeling some of the suspense and thrill I'm trying to write.
Once again, thanks for the support!! Vote if you see fit & pllllllease comment because comments bring a smile to my face :D
I've chosen 'Fix You' by Coldplay for this chapter and made a photo collage of the boys, commemorating Georgie. <3
Have a nice day xo
-O.