Protecting Miss Dawes - a job like any other

Chapter 12: Molly

Someone was shooting at the car. The sound was muffled, I guess a silencer was used, but I immediately understood what it was anyway. On shot hit the window...two... the third went through and made half of Terry's head explode like a watermelon does if you drop it to the ground. He must have died immediately. Blood splashed all over me and I heard someone scream at the top of their lungs and realised it was me, although it felt like all of this must be happing to someone else, it was completely surreal. God, Terry! Naturally, being dead he lost control of the car, but Sergeant James managed to simultaneously slide down in his seat, grab the wheel and steer the car to the side, stop it with breaks squealing, and shout to me;

"Down! Down, stay away from the windows! The bullets can pierce the windows but not the armoured metal!"

I had slid down by reflex, curled up on the floor, breathing heavily, screaming, sobbing in fear as more and more bullets hit the car, the shooter did not cease. I jolted from fear every time a new bullet hit the vehicle. This was someone who seriously wanted me dead. I heard James call for assistance through his radio.

"We have lost Terry. We will wait here for back-up."

His voice so calm, I could not believe it, but this was what he was here for. I had never thought for real that anything like it would happen, but now it was. Another bullet ricocheted against the metal and I squealed.

"Look at me, look at me, Molly." His eyes met mine through the space between the seats. "Take my hand."

I gave him my hand, hesitated to take his as mine was all bloody, but he had no such qualms, just took it and laced his fingers with mine, preventing me from freaking out in panic.

"It's okay, Molly. Remember, the bullets can't get through the armour plating. We should just wait here for assistance. It will take a couple of minutes. You're doing really well."

I sure as hell did not feel like I was doing well at all, and as seconds, minutes went by without help arriving I wondered what took them so long. There were new shots, and despite that he held my hand I could not stop myself from screaming.

"Why isn't help coming? We're going to die here."

"No, we're not, not on my watch.

There was communication through his radio that they would not send in unarmed officers because risk was too high, and we had to wait further for back-up. Suddenly he climbed back to me, taking a risk as he briefly exposed himself through the windows. He crouched beside me, took my face between his palms.

"You will be all right. We will be all right. You have to be brave, I will leave you and try to get to the shooter."

"No, stay with me!"

"I have promised to protect you, and I will. I don't know why the assistance is delayed, I have to try to take him out. I need to get out there."

His face so close, his eyes looking into mine, like a safe point to fix on to stay sane, not panic completely – how would I manage without them? He squeezed my hands one last time, then opened the door ajar, quickly slid out of the car and was gone. I stayed on the floor, panting, squealing, more terrified than I ever had been as more bullets kept bouncing against the metal.

Finally, the shooting stopped and after what seemed like an eternity, police came and opened the door, helped me out and to an ambulance. I had to take one last look at Terry, to say good bye to the man that had been driving me for three years but wished I had not had to see half his face gone, replaced by a bloody mess. I was taken to the hospital to get examined and cleaned up. I stood for long in a warm shower, scrubbing myself and saw the water turn red, then pink, finally clear but still felt like I had Terry's blood on me.