Matthew Dunn - Spycatcher

Will lay breathing heavily. He pressed his fingers into the wooden floor around him. He tried to feel things. He tried to move his legs. He tried to think. But he had no sense of time, no sense of location, and little sense of self.

He lay there and tried to muster any thoughts. Only one came to him: If you keep lying here, you will fail and die.

He shook his head and pressed his fingertips even harder into the floor. He focused on his hands and his arms. He focused only on the need for them to push him up from the floor.

A distant sound came to his ears. At first it seemed like gentle whistling, but the noise grew louder until it became the roar of the continuing battle in the house. He shook his head again, yelled out, and thrust with his hands and arms. He sat upright. Thought, sight, and hearing all came back to him with an immediacy that made him reel. He looked around and saw pieces of flesh everywhere.

He looked at the blown-apart doorway. He hauled himself to his feet, felt that he was going to collapse, but staggered forward a few paces until he seemed steady. He picked up his assault rifle, checked to see that it was undamaged, and walked close to the room. He crouched by the side of the door, gripping his gun. He decided that if there was anyone in the room, he would kill that person without any consideration for the consequences.

He moved quickly into the room with his weapon held high. The place had chairs, a bed, a television, and an open window. But no person, living or dead.

Laith’s strained voice broke into his thoughts. “Eleven-no, twelve hostiles coming to the house through the woods from the north.” There was silence for a few seconds before he added, “I can take some of them.”

The distinct sound of Laith’s Barrett M82A1 fifty-caliber weapon could be heard all around the place.

Roger shouted, “Ground floor clear! It’s a fucking mess!”

Laith said in a more controlled and quiet voice, “One down. Two down. Now three down.” He shouted, “I see snipers! Two of them!”

Roger entered the room. He was covered in sweat and black soot. He walked quickly up to Will and grabbed him by the arm. “What happened?”

Will sucked in air. “Ben and Julian are dead. Both of them stood in the way of explosive blasts that were meant for me.” He looked at the open window and then at Roger. “Megiddo must have escaped through there.”

Roger nodded quickly and spoke into his communication microphone. “Laith, just two of us left in here. We’re going after our man, but you need to take out those snipers.”

Two high-velocity rifle shots could be heard almost simultaneously. They did not sound like Laith’s weapon.

Roger turned sharply in their direction. He shouted, “Laith? Laith?” He kicked at a nearby chair, sending it crashing to the other side of the room.

“They must have killed him. It’s just us now, Roger.” Will looked at the window again. “I’m going after Megiddo. But there must be at least nine hostiles still coming our way. Do you think you can keep some of them off my back?”

Roger nodded and ran out of the room.

Will sprinted and jumped through the open window. He fell eight meters before hitting the ground and rolling over snow. He crouched, looking left and right through his rifle’s sight.

He heard Roger’s voice. “I’m out of the house and one hundred meters to the north. I count seven men coming toward me, but I can’t see the two snipers.”

“Can you see anything else? Lana? Vehicles? Movement on the lake?”

“There’s nothing else.”

Shit. Will looked away from Roger’s hidden position to the north of the lodge and turned to face the south. He looked out at the lake to his right and at the island where Laith now lay silent. He looked ahead again. Everywhere before him was forest, and its trees were laden with snow. Six kilometers in the distance, one of the Adirondack mountains looked down at him and everything around him.

“There’s no way to be sure,” he said to Roger, “but I’ve got to assume he’s heading south, away from the firefight.”

“Maybe he was never here.”

Will thought about the room’s booby trap. He pictured Ben’s body being torn apart by its violent force. “No. That room was important. He was here.”

“Then look for high ground. That’s where he’ll go. He’ll wait there until his men have killed us all.”

Will narrowed his eyes and focused on the mountain in the distance. He heard Roger’s MP5-N submachine gun suddenly emit short, controlled bursts. He knew that Roger was now occupied and that he was on his own. He tightened his grip on his assault rifle and ran.

He dodged between and around trees, the entire time alternating his gaze between what lay ahead and to his sides and on the ground, desperately scanning for footprints in the snow or freshly broken foliage-any signs of Megiddo’s route. He sprinted until the lake was no longer by his side. He sprinted until he was at least one kilometer from the lodge.

Roger shouted, “Two confirmed kills, but the bastards are flanking me! I’m dead if I hold my position!”

Will immediately stopped. “Get out of there, Roger.”

“Not until you have your man in your sights.”

Will kicked the ground in frustration. He looked ahead at the elevating ground. He looked back in the direction of the lodge and Roger’s dire position. He cursed and pointed his gun at the sky. He fired all the bullets that remained in his magazine. The noise from his gun echoed and bounced around the lake valley.

“If that was you”-Roger was almost screaming over the sound of his own machine gun-“then you definitely got their attention! The four men on my right flank are leaving me alone! You’ve given me a chance! But those four hostiles are coming for you!”

Will placed a new clip into his rifle and sprinted onward. Fresh snow started to fall in gentle flurries, and he fervently hoped that it was not going to become heavier and destroy any chances he had of finding tracks. He ran for another two kilometers, and all the time he could hear gunfire coming from the area around the lodge.

When the gunfire stopped, so did Will, momentarily. He jabbed a finger against his earpiece and waited. He sighed with relief as he heard Roger’s voice.

“All hostiles by the lodge are dead. You’ve still got four on your tail, though, and there’s no sign of the snipers. But I’m coming for you.”

“I’m about two point five kilometers away from you. Head toward the mountain.”

Fresh wind blew into Will’s face. He looked at the sky and its darkening clouds and shook his head. He wondered if the assault on the house had been in vain. He wondered if the bravery and sacrifice of Julian, Ben, and Laith would ultimately be meaningless. He wondered if Roger would be able to stay alive. And he wondered if today would be the day his own life came to a pointless end.

He forced his legs into action and pumped them harder to accelerate over the thick snow and rising ground. His breathing came loud, and his lungs ached from the icy air. He ran faster until he’d covered another two kilometers, still constantly scanning his surroundings.

Then he saw them.

They were two distant dots at first, but when he looked through his rifle’s scope, he saw a man and a woman running up the lower slopes of the mountain. He adjusted the scope to intensify and magnify the image. He saw that the woman was Lana. The man had his back to him and was pulling Lana’s arm.

Will clasped his fingers to his throat mike and shouted, “I have a visual! One man and Lana! At the base of the mountain!”

The noise of a rifle shot boomed through the valley behind him. Will called, “Roger?”