Innocent Until Found Dead

Chapter Eight

"You can close your eyes to reality, but not to memories." —Stanislaw Jerzy Lec

BOOM! The ground shook as yet another explosion ripped through the air. Smoke and dust filled the atmosphere, and the acrid smell of burnt metal stung Quinn's lungs. This was the fifth bomb they'd let go off, and it was clear—the mission had gone completely off plan.

"Chief, Agent 007 is down," Quinn shouted into her earpiece, her voice tight as she knelt by the wounded agent. Blood seeped through her fingers as she pressed down on his chest, his breaths faint and shallow. She could feel his life slipping away beneath her hands, the warmth of his blood cooling too quickly against her skin.

She looked into his half-closed eyes, trying to offer him some comfort, though she knew he wouldn't last long. His face was pale, his breathing shallow and uneven. She murmured quietly to him as she waited for the chief's response, watching helplessly as his eyelids drooped and his head tilted back. His body went limp, his pulse fading into nothing under her fingertips. Agent 007 was gone.

Clenching her jaw, Quinn closed his lifeless eyes, feeling the weight of his death settle on her shoulders. "Repeat," she called urgently into her earpiece, trying to keep her voice steady. "Agent 007 is dead. Come in, Chief. Are you there?"

A tense silence followed before the crackling voice of the chief finally broke through. "I'm here. Negative on the backup—your mother and father successfully defused the primary bomb, and Hunter and his partner disarmed the remaining two. Get yourself out of there."

Quinn exhaled sharply, relief mingling with the dread that clung to her from Agent 007's death. "Copy that. Heading out," she replied, pulling her blood-stained hands back from the fallen agent. Leaving him there felt wrong, but there was no time. The mission was over, and she needed to get herself and her partner to safety.

"Chief, where's the extraction force?" she asked, wiping her hands on her gear, trying to shake off the unsettling numbness creeping up her spine.

"The chopper is two miles south of your location. Coordinates are coming through now. Grab Agent C. and move out," the chief replied, her voice tense but unwavering.

Quinn's device buzzed as the coordinates flashed onto her screen. She glanced down, then called out to her partner, searching the smoky battlefield until she spotted her. "Charlie!" she yelled, waving her arms to get her attention. "Mission's complete. Extraction's two miles south! Let's move!"

Charlie looked up from the last attacker she'd dispatched, her knuckles bloodied but her expression fierce. She tossed her long blonde hair back, flashing Quinn a smirk as if she'd just told off a bad date rather than taken down a trained operative. "On my way, Trissame," she replied with a rhyme and a wicked grin, her eyes glinting as she surveyed the limp bodies around her one last time before sprinting over.

Quinn rolled her eyes but couldn't help a grin of her own as she secured her gear, feeling the relief and adrenaline thrumming through her veins. Together, she and Charlie began to make their way south, weaving through the maze of rubble and scattered debris, the remnants of the intense firefight still smoldering around them.

As they ran, Quinn kept her senses sharp, her hand hovering near her sidearm. They were still in hostile territory, and any shadow or movement could mean an ambush. They moved swiftly, their steps synchronized, each alert to their surroundings.

As they closed in on the extraction point, the faint sound of rotor blades began to reach them, a distant but steady thumping that gave her a renewed sense of hope. Finally, the chopper's silhouette came into view against the hazy horizon. She glanced at Charlie, whose face was flushed but determined, her eyes scanning the distance for any signs of trouble.