Private London

Chapter 10

The air was loud with gunfire.

A bullet slammed into my thigh, knocking me backwards, my right leg wrenched out of the damaged staircase as I tumbled down the stairs to land on the concrete floor. Captain Smith stood in the doorway, his automatic rifle blazing away.

Moments later the body of the Iraqi insurgent crashed down the stairs to land beside me, his head slapping against the hard floor. He didn’t cry out. He was dead.

I looked up at the doorway. My CO was silhouetted in a nimbus of light. ‘Thanks for the assist,’ I called out to him through clenched teeth.

‘De nada,’ he said and then dropped to his knees, his weapon clattering to the floor.

‘Captain,’ I said, dragging myself up and limping over to him.

‘Anne didn’t make it,’ he said, his voice a wet rasp. ‘I guess I didn’t, either.’

He fell forward and I held him to stop him collapsing to the ground. ‘Looks like it’s just you, Dan,’ he said.

‘Don’t say that. We’ll get help. You’re going to be okay.’

He shook his head weakly. ‘There’s been too many lies in this damn war already. Truth is, we shouldn’t be here in the first place and I don’t think today is going to change anything.’

‘Just hang in there,’ I said. ‘I’ll get help.’

He shook his head again. ‘Do me one favour.’ His voice was a low croak now.

‘Anything,’ I said softly.

‘Look out for Chloe for me,’ Captain Smith said. Then he breathed out and died in my arms.

‘You got it, boss,’ I said, tears pricking in my eyes. ‘You got it.’