Chapter 6 - Part 2

"Jesus mate, you need a neuro-surgeon, not a field doc," Krank exclaimed, gesticulating wildly, spitting the remnants of the apple he'd just taken a bite out of as he spoke.

"Krank, mate, you don't think I know that. At least see what you can do for the poor sod. There ain't no way he'll survive if we don't do something," Anthony retorted with frustration.

"Sure, sure Bishop, let me get my brain surgery for dummies and a box of elasto-fucking-plasts," Krank fired back, only half paying attention to Anthony. 

Ebbe was uncomfortably aware that his glances more often than not ended up in her direction. His pitted dark eyes seemed to undress her and she felt exposed in his presence. Forcing her attention elsewhere, she ran her eyes around the small living room. The soft furnishings were dirty, tatty and well past their use-by date. The couch in particular was sagging in the centre. Almost as if, Ebbe began, before realising it was exactly how it looked, Chum slept on the couch. No, more than that, he lived on the thing. She could see the remnants of food and drink surrounding it; crumbs, stains and several stained glasses beyond the hope of being washed. It was placed facing the window that faced the driveway. Just to the right of the windowsill was a small portable TV perched on a chest of drawers. The chest had clearly been dragged from it's previous position in the corner, because the carpet looked considerably cleaner in it's previous residency. He'd dragged the drawers so the TV and window were viewable simultaneously. Perhaps he had CCTV hooked up somewhere, though it wasn't obviously visible. 


With a quick sideways glance to check if she was being watched, Ebbe stepped up to the TV and clicked in on. The old cathode took a while to flash an image up, but finally displayed a crisp black and white image of the rear of the house. There you have it, this guy has spent the past four months lying on the couch staring at the front and rear of this house. Four months was an estimate based on the level of dust build up on the otherwise clean patch of carpet he had exposed. That and the four dirty glasses by the couch. It struck Ebbe it could take about a month to stain a previously clean glass to the point that even a slob like Chum would consider an alternative. 


He can't possibly be a doctor with such low hygiene standards, Ebbe pondered, transfixed by lifeless black and white image on the curved screen. He's a brute; a paranoid, slovenly brute with no morals or...


Ebbe froze, she swore she'd seen something move in the bushes to the right of the back fence. She squinted her eyes, peering with defined precision at the space she suspected. 


"Best I can do is shoot the poor bastard up with so much morphine he'll never wake up again," she heard say Chum in the background. Impatiently she lifted her right hand and clicked her fingers loudly. She didn't look away from the screen, afraid she'll miss whatever it was that moved. She allowed herself only a brief glance to the window, but she saw nothing untoward so focused back on the screen.


"Why's that bitch clicking her..." Ebbe heard Chum start to speak, but before he'd had a chance to complete the sentence, she heard a crack and he fell silent. She couldn't help but smile to herself, trying to imagine what Anthony must have done to Chum to silence him. Part of her hoped his swift action hadn't solely been because she needed him to shut up, but partly because he'd called her a bitch. 


There! The bushes shifted and Ebbe knew it was no animal. The screen was too small to give clarity, but the movement looked like someone shifting their weight and then stopping the branches moving as a result of their actions.


"Whatever you've been staring out this window waiting for, for the past four months, has just arrived," Ebbe hissed, finally turning away from the TV.


"How do you...?" Chum began, his club like hand nursing a wounded jaw.


"She just does. Exit options?"


Chum nodded downward and Anthony replied with an acknowledging nod. Without a sound, Anthony gestured with his hands to Jake and Cody, flicking his thumb at Art, still tightly strapped to the stretcher. The pair nodded and grabbed one side each. 


"Show them the way and then show me where you keep your shit," Anthony managed to seem to shout, yet actually whisper, his voice both commanding and yet barely discernible. 


Ebbe noticed an instant change in the formerly jovial Chum. It was if a drunkard had, in a split second, sobered up and become abstinent. He turned to her and his black eyes had lost the lascivious gaze, now replaced with an earnest determination. He nodded to her, a subtle gesture to follow him. She allowed herself one last glance at the screen before following without question. Now, at last, she could see in him a man worth following, worth trusting. 


He quickly led them to a small door in the corridor. He yanked the door open roughly and knelt down. The floor appeared to be stone tiles, the same as the hallway, but with a swift jerk backwards, Chum had peeled the stone back to reveal steps leading downward. He turned to Ebbe and offered his hand, which she gladly took, the steps being extremely uneven and precipitous. She was about to step down when he pulled her back with such force the breath was sucked out of her lungs. For a second she thought the former Chum had returned, the other version simply being a very convincing act, taking advantage of the situation. He pulled her uncomfortably close to his face. His hot breath smelled strongly of garlic and coffee. 

"If they put a V6 on you," he whispered, "then you must know, just as I know." With that he gave Ebbe a smile, pulled her face to his and slathered her lips with a messy kiss before practically pushing her down the stone steps into the darkness below.

Ebbe landed with a bewildered stumble, managing to stagger awkwardly down the steps. Her feet at last found stable ground and she was able to steady herself. It was pitch black, wherever she was, and underfoot felt soft, probably earth, she reasoned. She stood, breathing heavily in the darkness, her mind and body reeling from Chum's actions. What did he mean? What does he know? Her scattered thoughts were interrupted by footsteps coming from behind her. She whirled around, her eyes only just starting to adjust to the murk. She could just about discern Jake and Cody carefully carrying the stretcher down the awkward steps. As they reached the foot of the stairs the light filtering from the open flagstone above was extinguished, the stone slamming back down.

"Wait! Where's Anthony?" Ebbe exclaimed, before clasping her hand to her mouth in shock, her voice sounding so loud, as if it were echoing off a vast chamber.

Jake and Cody didn't reply and in the dark Ebbe could no longer remember where they were. It suddenly felt uncommonly still and she became painfully aware of her own heavy breathing and thumping heart. Come on Ebbe, pull yourself together woman, she tried to reason. Anthony was just getting medicine for Art, something to sedate him should he wake. Chum would be showing him where he kept it and then the pair would re-open the stone and be down here. Chum would be sure to have some way of sealing it from the inside and...


Rattatatata. 


The dull sound of gun fire penetrated through the thick ceiling. Ebbe let out an involuntary squeal and stepped back. A louder squeal escaped when, with that step, she stumbled into the arms of someone who had been standing right behind her this whole time. Their arms wrapped around her tightly, gloved hand clasping tightly against her mouth. All she could smell was the petroleum infused canvass of the glove. Above, the incessant gunfire continued, compounded occasionally by some loud thuds, after which some masonry or soil sprinkled down upon her. 


Ebbe felt helpless. Darkness had enveloped her every sense. The nightmarish sounds above began to fade and silence fell. Her assailant had not flinched, his firm grip true and steady. Now even his breathing seemed to slow, steady and finally dissipate completely. 


Deathly silence fell.

Ebbe waited. Her attacker would surely make his choice soon enough. She was certain it wasn't Shakes, he had no reason, nor the skill to sneak up on her without being noticed. Obviously it wasn't Moon Face, strapped and more than likely paralysed on the stretcher. That left Grim Reaper, the most like suspect, taking his chance to complete the mission. Hell, it was probably Grim who had led the attackers above to their current position. 


But if he was going to kill her, what was the delay. He could have done it in a split second. A strong twist on her neck would have done the job. But he was just holding her. Waiting. 


Could there be someone else down in the dark? Ebbe tried to picture the house above again, pushing aside the gruesome image of Anthony riddled with bullets that had initially emerged. Did the evidence suggest one or more other occupants? No, Ebbe concluded, she would have read the signs, had they been there. Chum was up there all alone. But that didn't discount the presence of others below. After all what was he doing up there? He was the watchman. Of course! How could I have been so dim, Ebbe cursed herself. Chum wasn't the kind of man to live in fear. He was a great ox of a man, striding through life like he was indestructible. And if he wasn't holed up in that shabby house, cowering in fear of who may come after him, what was he doing? Protecting something. Or someone. Or both. Ebbe reached back into her mind and did a walk through from the first meeting with Chum, through to his extremely unpleasant kiss. Something on Chum, something he said, or something in the house would give her a clue. 

Wait...

"James?" Ebbe said out loud cautiously. In an instant the grip was released and she fell to the floor. Ebbe scrambled backwards instinctively, until she bumped into something metallic. Her fumbling hands grasped at it, using it as leverage to stand, her legs still shaking, betraying the nerves she was trying so hard to swallow.

"How," a young man's voice began, "how do you know my name?"

"Turn on the light and I'll tell you," replied Ebbe, controlling her breathing, doing her utmost to sound calm.

Chapter 6 - Part 1

"Ha ha aha haa haa," came the thunderous laugh of Krank as he emerged from the front door, vast pump action shot gun held aloft in his right hand. He was six foot five, a towering hulk of a man. His head was shaved bald and his left eye was marked by a vast scar that ran from his temple down to his cheek. "This chick's got more balls than you Bishop," Krank boomed with a chuckle, gesturing to Anthony's crotch with the tip of his gun.

"Jesus, careful where you point that thing," Anthony cursed, pushing the gun away.

Krank laughed again and strode up to Ebbe, looking her up and down admiringly. He took in her figure lasciviously.

"Shame," he tutted remorsefully, "not bad."

Ebbe scowled at this ridiculous man, taking an instant dislike to his obvious disregard for human life. Thank goodness it wasn't this buffoon who'd been sent on the V6 mission. It's unlikely I'd have got a word in edgewise before he turned me into shark bait. An image of Roy Scheider, chumming chopped fish and blood into the ocean in disgust in Jaws, made Ebbe chuckle to herself. Chum, that was what she'd name this fool, because he was a blood and guts type.


"You sure he's a doctor?" Ebbe hissed at Anthony, doing her level best to maintain eye contact and feeling self-conscious that her cheeks often flushed when embarrassed.


"Where's your man Bishop?" Chum boomed with the subtly of a cannon.


Anthony, seemingly in no hurry to re-dress, nodded towards the Land Rover and made a small gesture with his hand. Ebbe took that to be a question to Chum as to whether he was free to move now. Clearly Anthony didn't wholly trust this man, that made Ebbe nervous. She wanted to get out of there as soon as possible and truly hoped Chum was just the doorman, and the real doctor was hiding in the basement. Chum looked at his shotgun and let out another coarse laugh before tossing the gun to the Anthony carelessly. Anthony moved with the speed and precision of a panther, catching the weapon, spinning it around and pumping it to let out the remaining shells. When it was empty, he dropped it to the ground and strolled over to the Land Rover. Ebbe couldn't help admiring his muscular form, she had never seen someone as physically fit as Anthony strip down, outside of the movies. There are, she pondered, disadvantages to spending most of your life around geeks.


Ebbe shook her head, angry with herself for getting distracted by such fruitless thoughts. It isn't like me to be so easily distracted, she admitted. Has it just been too long since I...


"Sorry about, er..." Anthony, now partially dressed, suddenly loomed into view and startled her. Ebbe felt her face flushing hot and she was certain her cheeks must be glowing like a red delicious. She turned to see Anthony, trousers back on, but still topless until he pulled his sweater over his head, covering his chest. He looked flustered and Ebbe found that disconcerting. When Chum had them pinned down and under fire, Anthony was, as the saying goes, as cool as a cucumber. Now he looked uncertain and uncomfortable. He was about to speak again when Ebbe suddenly realised what the problem was. He was trying to apologise for his impromptu fondling earlier and was struggling. We're alike, this man and I, Ebbe thought, we've both loved and lost something. We've both thrown ourselves into our work and now because of a little sexual tension we're both acting like bewildered teenagers. Good grief, I never knew I could reach my forties and still end up as awkward as I was when I thirteen. Watching Anthony flounder was too much and she didn't want anything complicated. Instead of saying anything Ebbe lifted her forefinger and placed it on his lips, before gently shaking her head, forcing out a small smile. 


Anthony looked almost relieved, as if she had silently accepted his unspoken apology and the air was now clear. He turned to look back at the Land Rover and Ebbe followed his gaze. Grim Reaper and Shakes were waiting by the side door, which had been left open. 


"He's a good man," Anthony said, although Ebbe was unsure if he meant Moon Face or Chum. She opted not to ask. The gravel behind them crunched and they both turned simultaneously to see Chum emerge from the farmhouse carrying a stretcher. He lugged it over to the Land Rover and handed it to the waiting pair. Ebbe looked up at Anthony, his eyes focused intently on the group around the Land Rover.


"Go help," she insisted, sensing he was lingering with her out of some sort of protective duty, as if she might be shaken by the events. He didn't turn to look at Ebbe, simply nodding gratefully before striding towards the Land Rover purposely. She watched him tenderly help his prostate friend onto the stretcher with the utmost care, ensuring Moon Face's head and back remained straight. 


"You're a good man," Ebbe found herself saying out loud. It struck her suddenly that she had been thinking of him as Anthony, rather than the nickname Fearless Leader. Oh good grief, that means nothing, she rolled her eyes at her own thoughts dismissively. To prove it she forced herself to look up the midday sun, currently partially obscured by stretches of pepper grey clouds. You see Ebbe, there's a greater mystery at hand than my predilection for one name or another.There's the small matter of the sun switching itself off and on. 


Ebbe had expected many odd events, she had imagined the sun, over many decades, dimming, and perhaps one day, hundreds or even thousands of years away, fizzing out completely. But to just click off like a light bulb, with no discernible effect on the level of light or heat, that was pure insanity. That didn't just defy the laws of physics, it defied rational thought. It was, Ebbe decided, so irrational that she suspected most people would label it as such. She could just imagine TV, Radio and Internet abuzz with claims we had all experienced some kind of mass hallucination. That would sound infinitely more plausible. It certainly sounded more plausible to Ebbe.


"Oi, love? Make yourself useful and pop the kettle on would ya?" The coarse yell of Chum shook her from her thoughts.


The bloody cheek, Ebbe thought, who does he think I am? Kicking the shotgun aside she stormed up to the Land Rover. 

Moon Face was now safely strapped onto the stretcher, and Grim Reaper and Shakes had taken either side, so they could transport him into the house. Chum was striding alongside them, but Ebbe placed herself directly in his path defiantly. He looked down at her with a quizzical frown, his mouth curling into a smirk in the corner. Ebbe looked up at him with boiling blood. Chum turned to look at Anthony, perhaps in the hope Anthony could control her. Much to her delight Anthony just looked back at Chum and shrugged with a gesture that it was up to Chum how to proceed. Chum rolled his eyes and tried to step around Ebbe, but she simply sidestepped back into his path. With a sigh Chum clenched his fists and stepped back in the other direction, but Ebbe simply mirrored him. Her heart was pounding hard, but she couldn't let him get the better of her. She was determined, just as she had with Anthony, to get the upper hand. Every man had a button to press to deflate their ego, she simply had to seek it out. Once the ego was gone, they were much more amenable company.


"Lady, will you?" Chum started, gesturing at Grim and Shakes holding the stretcher. 


"Look here Mr Chum, for some reason Anthony has faith in your skills. But I can tell you one thing, he doesn't trust you. Nobody can truly trust a man like you, because you're a bully, you're unpredictable and you're foolhardy. Perhaps in the middle of a battlefield they are all good attributes, but..." Ebbe was in full flow when Chum simply placed a vast palm on her face and pushed her aside, sending her stumbling backwards onto the gravel driveway. Her hands fumbled back, trying to soften the blow, only have the little stones dig into the soft skin of the palms.


Bewildered and confused, Ebbe simply stayed sitting, staring at the gravel blankly. She was vaguely aware that the trio had marched off and disappeared into the house. Ebbe closed her eyes and fought back a wave of emotion. She had misjudged, she had lost control and she'd made a fool of herself. Now she sensed something worse, in corners of her eyes, she sensed a moistening, as if she may cry. This was utterly unacceptable. Ebbe didn't cry. She could count on one hand the amount of times, in her adult life, she'd cried. The last time was when Jorge had...


But the thought was halted when Ebbe, eyes still scrunched shut, sensed a presence. She opened her eyes, thankfully free of tears, to see Anthony leaning down, right hand held out, offering her a lift up. His eyes twinkled with playful mirth. Ebbe took a deep breath and dusting her hands off, accepted his outstretched hand. When she grasped it she noticed how rough and leathery it was. With minimum effort Anthony pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. 


"Can't win them all," he remarked, before leading her into the farmhouse.

Chapter 5 - Part 2

"The judgement day has come!" 

The high pitched scream jogged Anthony from his stupor. He shook his head, as if to clear it from the insanity of it all, and jumped from the roof of the Land Rover. 
A young man was running down the road at full pelt, his eyes wild with fear. Anthony assumed him to be a local farmer, dressed, as he was, in dirty jeans and checked red shirt. The man ran by, repeating his apocalyptic scream, completely disregarding the Land Rover and its occupants. 

Anthony looked back at the sky after this brief, surreal interruption, to see the sun had returned, and suddenly, the day appeared as if nothing untoward had happened. Clearly not the case, but hard to believe, looking at the serene countryside surrounding them. Shaking his head again, Anthony jumped back into the Rover and gave Ebbe a cold hard stare.

"Any ideas?" He asked with a subtle nod to the sun, now sitting merrily just above a distant forest.

Ebbe shrugged, "I'll show you what I know, once we've done something about Moon Face back there," she paused briefly, taking in a deep breath and exhaling loudly, "just as we agreed."

Anthony nodded, annoyed that even in the face of obvious craziness Ebbe remained as oblique as ever. 

It took nigh on an hour to reach their destination and Anthony opted to continue the journey in silence. Ebbe had effectively laid bare the last fifteen years of his life, in front of his men, and he had let her. He wasn't sure if he was okay with that yet. Little I can do about it, obviously, he chided himself. Cat, bag, well and truly out of it, he thought with an inner chuckle. So the men know about Elaine now, so what? The world was going crazy before their eyes, who gave a shit about his personal life now? 

God.

Yes, God would give a shit about his personal life. What if the crazy farmer was right? What if this was the judgement day? What judgement could possibly fall upon me, but that of damnation, Anthony thought. Maybe the missing factor in Ebbe's scientific theories was God. She was the smartest person he'd ever met, but she clearly didn't truly understand what they had just experienced. As a scientist she would reject God outright, but what if? What if the signs she read as science gone mad, was God getting mad? If I am to be sent to Hell, the only question is, to where did the powers that be, send Elaine? Because if she was sent the Heaven and I go to Hell, then, even if I have to defeat Satan himself, I shall break out of the bonds of hell and seek her out.

It was at this thought that Anthony saw the reassuringly familiar swinging sign for Aldhurst Farm to the right. Barely lifting his foot off the accelerator he swung the lurching Land Rover into the gravel driveway, spitting stones backwards as the wheels sought their grip. The vehicle slammed to a halt outside a crumbling farmhouse, part red brick, part Tudor timber and white washed stone.

"Don't move," Anthony barked.

He made a move to step out of the vehicle himself, but a thundering boom and the shattering of the windscreen sent him diving for cover instead. Instinctively he pulled Ebbe with him, knowing his men would have already reacted, but that she would be too slow.

"Don't move," he re-iterated to Ebbe, before silently gesturing to Jake and Cody to get their weapons and make their exit. Anthony realised his safest exit was from the passenger door. At this thought another cacophonous  boom signalled another hit upon the Rover, this time smashing into the hood and tearing a hole through the rusting metal. This forced a growing sense of urgency upon Anthony and without giving Ebbe instruction or time to move, he clambered over her. For a second he was aware his scrambling hands had unwittingly pressed hard against a breast as he made his way to the door. Live first, apologise later, he thought as he flicked the door open and slid out, doing his level best not to also kick Ebbe in the head as his legs followed him out. 


In a second he and his team were stationed behind the Land Rover, weapons unlocked and ready for deadly force. 


"Don't move until I give you the signal," Anthony growled, his eyes squarely on Cody, whose vacant eyes were still giving him cause for concern. Not wanting a repeat situation, Anthony grabbed Cody's face roughly and shook him violently. "Kid, snap out of it, I need you focused, you hear me?" Cody blinked blankly for a second, before a spark seemed to reignite in his eyes. That's more like it! Anthony thought, the little shit looks a little more alive. Another shot echoed out and the Land Rover actually shook from the violence of the impact. "Stay!" Anthony barked, before turning his attention to the farmhouse, where the shots were apparently emanating from. In a split second he had made his assessment. One shooter, firing a close range high powered scatter shot weapon. He couldn't be firing from a window on the first floor, the shots wouldn't be so contained from that distance. It wasn't coming from anywhere too low, discounting a hidden bolt hole, because the angle of the impacts didn't allow for shots coming from below. This left the ground floor, and there were only two windows within a suitable range for such a weapon to do this level of damage. This wasn't a team from the agency who had somehow ascertained where they were going. This was worse, it was Krank, and he thought they were coming for him. I could just yell out to the sonfabitch and tell him who it is, and why we're here. But Krank would suspect it to be a trap, the paranoid bastard. Anthony thought about Ebbe, still crouching inside the Land Rover, and he suddenly began to fear that she would try and take things into her own hands. She was a tough cookie, but Krank was another beast altogether, if she as much as stuck a hand out, he'd blow it off in a heartbeat. Some doctor!

"Give me your guns!" Anthony hissed. Cody obliged immediately, almost too eagerly for Anthony's liking. Jake looked a little more dubious but Anthony stared him down, until he finally relented, clicking the safety on and spinning it to hand the butt of the weapon to Anthony. Taking a deep breath Anthony tossed all three guns into the open ground between the Rover and the house. 

"What the fuck?" Jake cursed loudly. Anthony simply held up his hand without even turning his head. Jake inhaled loudly but held his tongue.

"Krank?" Anthony yelled, "you listening?" his voice booming across the courtyard with Shakespearean clarity.  


Another shot rang out in response, smashing into the gravel by the guns, but just missing them by a hairs breadth.


"Mate, it's Bishop. You hearing me?" Anthony shouted, taking the fact that Krank missed the guns as a sign he was in a listening mood. This time there was no response.

"I got me a man down, fella, bullet to the brain, a good man," Anthony shouted, "give us some air time and you'll see I'm straight up." Anthony held his breath. If he were Krank right now he'd not believe a word of it, and just shoot anybody who moved towards the house.


Silence hung thickly in the air. Only the birds were in a talkative mood, perhaps chattering about the mysterious phenomenon of the morning. That gave Anthony an idea.


"Got me a civi Krank. Says she knows what's happening to the Sun," he left that hanging a second, before continuing, with what he hoped was the closing pitch. "We were sent in to do a V6 on her," he finished, lowering his tone almost reverentially. 


"Bullshit," came the gruff reply, "ain't no such thing," the voice added.


"If I was lying wouldn't I come up with a more convincing story?" Anthony replied, feeling proud of his quick wits. Krank surely couldn't argue with that logic. 


"Underwear!" Came the blunt reply. 


"Don't be an arsehole Krank," Anthony yelled back in frustration.


"Underwear, or I'll burn that scrap heap and toast all you assholes for breakfast."


Anthony sighed and with a nod turned to his men. 


"Do it," he sighed, starting to pull his jacket off. 


Stripped to his boxer shorts, Anthony was first to step out, arms raised. His body wore the battle scars of days past. His left thigh had been badly burnt and the scarring had healed poorly. He had several slices across his toned belly and three healed bullet wounds, one on his left bicep, one on near his chest and the last just to the left of his jugular. Behind him Jake strode out, also only in his shorts, his face like thunder. His body was less war weary, but equally muscular, further benefiting from his advantage of youth. Last to emerge was Cody, who looked like a boy in his boxers, lacking the bulk and weathered tan of the other two men. His was a more athletic body, yet to suffer the indignities of war.


The three men approached the farmhouse slowly, the small gravel stones sticking to their bare feet as they walked.


"Close enough," Krank growled, "where's the civi?"


"Jesus Krank, she's in the car," Anthony replied impatiently.


"Tell her underwear and outside or one of you's burger meat."


"Jesus Krank, she's not one of us!"


A warning shot ricocheted across the courtyard near Anthony's feet, sending a furious spray of dirt and gravel into his legs and chest, cutting and nipping at his bare skin, causing it to weep blood from several tiny wounds.


"Mother-f...." Anthony cursed, biting his lip.


"I'm here!" Came Ebbe's voice from behind them. Anthony turned to see Ebbe, still fully dressed, standing with her hands in the air.


"Strip!" Anthony hissed at her, fearful he was about to see her skin blasted off bone, as Krank let her feel the full force of his gun for being disobedient.


"I'd rather not, thank you," Ebbe responded, her perverse calmness from her own farmhouse seige returning. "I didn't gain two doctorates, and study my ass off for a decade simply to parade it in front of some cro-magnon thug because he was a thick headed paranoid slug. Any lunk-headed dolt could ascertain from my posture I am not concealing any weapons, nor am I trained in combat. Stripping me for your perverse requirements will render me no more harmless than I already am. If you men wish to spend time naked in each other's company it is of no concern to me. However we have a seriously wounded man in the back of this now deceased Land Rover who needs urgent medical attention. We also have a dying world that needs strong, intelligent people to defend and rescue it. If I am not in the company of such people, either allow me to leave and find such, or shoot me now and end my misery at seeing such pitiful reasons to save humanity."


That's it. We're dead. I'm going to die in my goddamned underwear, Anthony decided. Everything seemed to stop in it's tracks. Even the twittering birds seemed to have paused, perhaps all waiting to see what will happen to these strange creatures yelling, shouting and disturbing the peace.

Chapter 5 - Part 1

"This shit just got serious and whoever this chick is, she knows more about it than any of us arseholes put together. As of now you have no opinions that aren't my own, you do nothing I haven't told you to do, and you say nothing that wasn't preceded by a question from me. Cody,  boot. Jake, in the back with Art."

The bloody sun had just switched off and Anthony was not in the mood for screwing around. If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he'd call bull on anyone who told him it happened. That was crazy shit right there, and it scared the hell out of him. Nothing Ebbe had said had warned him for this and even she seemed genuinely shocked, something Anthony found even more disconcerting. He'd asked if this was what she had been expecting, hoping she would nod calmly and explain it was some sort of optical illusion caused by atmospheric distortion, or some such sciency crap. But she had simply replied 'in a manner', and left it at that. He sensed she was purposely being cautious with her words, but he couldn't determine if it was because she knew more, or because she knew nothing. He figured, from the little time he'd spent around her, it wasn't the latter. Her eyes gave it away, there was awe and amazement, but also a shimmering layer of fear that betrayed her true feelings. She knew something was going to happen, but not to this extent and certainly not so soon. He had felt foolish asking if she knew how to fix it. What a dumb question. How do you fix the sun? It was the Goddamn sun. It's not like there's an on/off switch on the wall. 

A weird relief had pulsed through Anthony when Ebbe said she wanted to try and save Art. It brought with it a sense of normality. Never mind the impossible, she had said, let's deal with the possible. Art was injured, maybe we can save him. The sun can wait. 

Happy to receive a new mission Anthony quickly took steps to control his team. He knew it would be easy now. Whenever the shit hits the fan, the troops look for a leader. All he had to do was lead with conviction. He had quickly run through a few speeches in his mind. I don't care who shot who. Enough bullshit, I need you guys to focus. Time to step up gentlemen, we're on the front line now. Anthony decided short, blunt and simple was all he wanted. It was time for action, not words.

And now they were driving. It was eerie, like a dream. The world around them was bathed in a warm yellow light, just another mild spring day. Butterflies flapped by chaotically, flies buzzed eagerly back and forth and livestock grazed sleepily in the fields opposite, seemingly unaware of the inky black void above them. It felt to Anthony like a vast shroud had placed across the sky. There was no light and yet it seemed to shimmer and shift hypnotically. He couldn't decide if it was a trick of the eye, or if there really was movement. Fearing an accident he forced his eyes to focus solely on the road. 


"People will be scared," Ebbe said bluntly out of the blue.


"Yes Ebbe. Yes they will," Anthony nodded, thinking what a vast understatement that was. The London riots flashed into his mind and he pictured similar scenes of looting and destruction on the streets as people began to panic. What was that kids story about the sky falling? Something to do with chickens? That can't be right can it? Aw, who gives a damn? Fear of the unknown always drives people a little crazy. This was as unknown as it can get.

"You think this person we're going to see, you think they'll still be there?" Ebbe asked, silently suggesting they may have fled in fear.

"He'll be there," Anthony replied without hesitation.  


"Things will get worse," Ebbe responded to an unspoken question. Anthony wanted to ask what could be worse, he wanted to know what she knew, how she knew, and why the hell the government had wanted to kill her, rather than work with her. Too many bloody questions.


"You married?" He asked instead, opting for normality over insanity.


"No," Ebbe replied swiftly and bluntly. Hit a nerve there Anthony my son.


"Kids?" He persisted, half hoping to get her to open up more and accidentally let something key detail slip. He knew that was a faint hope, Ebbe was a smarter cookie than that. There was a long pause before she finally opted to reply.


"No," she replied hesitantly this time. That was a lie, Anthony told himself, but didn't let on. 


"I've got two. One boy, one girl," he started, before adding "they must be terrified." He left it at that purposely, convinced Ebbe wouldn't take the bait. 


"You don't strike me as a family man," she replied absently staring out of the window at the blackness.


"No. I don't suppose I do," Anthony agreed wholeheartedly, "but I love them all the same." Again he left the subject open, more hopeful now that he was getting somewhere.

For a while Ebbe stayed silent, seemingly content to stare out at the curious new sky.

"Your wife. She know what you do?" She eventually asked, turning to look at him with pursed lips.

"She's dead," Anthony replied curtly. He waited for the politely awkward apology that usually followed. But none was forthcoming. Ebbe instead raised her eyebrows and pulled a grimace. 

"She was in the service?" She asked after a thoughtful pause. 


"Yeah. How did you guess?" Anthony replied with genuine surprise. How could she possibly have ascertained that from their brief time together? 


"Same way I guess you don't have two children," Ebbe continued, her dark eyes focused on Anthony intently.


"How so?" He responded, genuinely intrigued.


"You're a military man. You're too institutionalised to have spent enough time off duty to meet anyone who wasn't also in the business. Normally such alliances are strictly forbidden, but clearly you're a man willing to bend the rules when the situation suits. You're mid forties now, so I'd guess this all happened at least ten years past." Ebbe paused, possibly for breath, but Anthony suspected it was more for dramatic effect. She was a wily one for sure. "I'd suspect about ten years because you're now working for this agency at a high level, which must take some time. One year induction, two years earning their trust, two years rising through the ranks, three years running missions until you were entrusted with autonomous control. Then another one or two years to establish yourself as the best of the best. Which leads us to you being chosen to eliminate a high profile, V6 target." She was clearly enjoying this now, and Anthony chose to remain silent until she had finished. "No one achieves that level of success without being available 24/7 every day. That kind of sacrifice doesn't allow for a relationship, or children. That kind of sacrifice comes when a man has nothing to live for. Oh..." Ebbe's smile suddenly dropped from her face, "oh, Anthony I am so sorry." 


To his great surprise she placed her pale hand gently on his shoulder and squeezed it. He found a small smile creeping surreptitiously onto his face, his heart touched by her sudden understanding. She truly is a marvel, this Ebbe, he told himself. I tried to draw something out of her, and instead she discovered something not even Art knows. 


"What was her name?" Ebbe asked gently.


"Elaine. Elaine Bastion," Anthony replied with a sigh.


"How far along was she?" Ebbe continued, her voice sounding softer than before.


"Six months. Twins. Jack and Sarah." He responded forcing his voice to remain strong and steady.


Ebbe pondered upon this for a moment, before running her hand through her hair and rubbing her temples.


"Sam," she finally said, her voice lighter still, almost becoming a whisper.


"Your...?" Anthony started, before pausing, sensing Ebbe would continue when good and ready.


She nodded by way of response but opted not to continue. 

"Ebbe?" Anthony finally piped up, wanting to turn and look at her, but keeping his eyes focused on the winding road.

"Hmmm?" She replied absently, seemingly lost in thought.

"What's happening?" 

Ebbe sighed heavily and scrunched her eyes closed tightly for a second. Rubbing her right hand down her face, she opened her eyes and turned to Anthony.

"Everything is wrong," she replied obliquely.

"What the hell does that mean?" Anthony responded, trying his best not to sound frustrated.

"Just that," Ebbe countered, "every scientific law is being eroded. It's the greatest rug pull in history."

"I...," Anthony took in the clear road, and feeling it safe, opted to turn so he could look Ebbe in the eyes before continuing.


"Sir, I," Jake barked insistently.


Anthony twisted his head angrily.


"What did I tell you?" Anthony hissed menacingly.


"I know sir, but look!" Jake insisted, jabbing a bony finger at the window urgently.


Anthony cursed under his breath, but turned, aware his eyes had been off the road far too long. When he saw what Jake was pointing to his foot instinctively slammed on the brakes, causing everyone to jerk forwards. Jake grabbed Art's limp body with lightning reactions, preventing him from crashing into the seat in front. As the car skidded to a halt with a judder, Anthony unclicked the the seat belt and pulled the door open in one swift motion. He leaped out and clambered onto the roof of the Land Rover.

"Jesus," he whispered under his breath as he stared at the horizon, which was flickering back and forth between lines of blue cloudy sky and the shimmering blackness, almost like a TV trying to find a signal. 

Chapter 4 - Part 2

Ebbe scrunched her face up tightly before she turned to see what she already knew was there. Or more accurately, what wasn't. In her mind she pictured the scenes of panic on the streets, parents grabbing their terrified children and clasping them close protectively, drivers skidding to a halt to survey the sky. Businesses would be grinding to a halt the world over as workers pressed noses to glass, or rushed out into the street to stare upwards.

Ebbe held her eyes shut for a second longer, before at last letting them open slowly, revealing the black sky above. 

My God, she exclaimed inwardly with a gasp, it's beautiful. 

The sun had vanished entirely, as if it were merely a candle, extinguished by a careless draft. The sky was now a shimmering inky blackness, as if the Earth were suddenly enshrouded within a vast cavern. Despite the absence of the sun and indeed any discernible stars, there was something glinting imperceptibly all across the sky. Ebbe had been spelunking several times and she found it akin to the interior of a wet cavern, when the lights from the explorers bounced of tiny imperfections in the rocky surroundings. 

Instead of fear, Ebbe felt only relief. She couldn't imagine why, but she was happy to go with the cathartic release of tension that had been pent up within for years now. Here it was, the culmination of all that research and by God it was magnificent.

With a perverse excitement coursing through her veins, Ebbe forced herself to turn back to her feuding comrades. For a brief moment Ebbe had hoped that something so extraordinary would stem the desire for ongoing discourse, but that hope was dashed before the thought had even completed. Far from being humbled, Grim Reaper had opportunistically grabbed Fearless Leader's discarded weapon and was now pointing it with obvious intent at Fearless.

"Bloody fools," Ebbe spat out loud, anger bubbling impatiently to the surface. Before another thought had entered her mind, she began to stride towards the Land Rover, her eyes alight, her jaw grinding. She caught the look of surprise on Fearless' face as she emerged from behind Grim Reaper and slapped him hard on the back of his head, as if she was castigating a naughty child. From the fear in Fearless' face he must have expected Grim to turn and shoot her without pausing for breath. Instead he simply lowered the gun and turned to Ebbe, his face more a picture of surprise than Fearless. 

"What's wrong with you man?" Ebbe spat, squaring up to him furiously, causing him to actually step back with a surprised stumble. He look as if he may speak, but no words were forthcoming. "Give it to me!" Ebbe gestured to the gun, still sensing she came off as an angry mother insisting her child hand over a banned toy. Much to the surprise of all, Grim Reaper sheepishly spun the gun in his hand, so he could offer it butt first to Ebbe. Tentatively she took it between her thumb and forefinger, holding it up as if it were something filthy she didn't want to touch. "I thought we'd already agreed you'd not kill each other," Ebbe scolded before turning to Fearless, "you just going to sit there?" 

He looked at her with raised eyebrows, clearly unsure how to take the situation. Ebbe sensed her hand with the gun was beginning to shake, and she wished he would stand to take the damn thing away from her, before she dropped it. She was certain it would go off unexpectedly and someone else would end up with a bullet in them. Much to her relief he finally stood and with a swift flick of his wrist, relieved her of the weapon. It was only now that she realised she had been holding her breath. 

Pocketing the weapon and striding up to Ebbe, Fearless didn't take his eyes off Grim Reaper. Before he turned his attention to her she saw Fearless give Grim a look, that she read to say, don't move, don't speak, don't even think. Whatever unspoken code had been given seemed to work. Grim nodded silently and raised his hands briefly, as if to say, I'm done, it's back to you now.

"This what you were expecting?" Fearless eventually said after staring out at the dark sky for a few minutes silently.

"In a manner," Ebbe replied, hoping he was too distracted to notice she was still being evasive.

"How is it still..." Fearless paused and gave a random wave of his arm to gesture at the valley.

"Light?" Ebbed finished for him. Fearless gave a small nod, his eyes fixed on one spot, perhaps where the sun had just been. "I honestly don't know," she replied. And that was the truth. It made no sense in any scientific theory she could consider. The absence of the sun ought to mean two very obvious things; no light, no heat. Neither were true now. It looked and felt as if it were morning still. The cold air Ebbe had felt, was more like a cold wind had passed by, and was now replaced with a mild, early spring-like warmth. The patchwork of fields strewn out below them were as well lit as before.

"Do you," Fearless started, before pausing to choose his words carefully, "do you know how to fix this?" He turned to look at Ebbe almost apologetically, as if he regretted asking such a question.

Ebbe simply shook her head. 

"But that doesn't mean I don't want to try," she added

"I'll help any way I can," Fearless replied with such earnestness that Ebbe surprised herself with a small smile. 

"First things first," Ebbe began, "if we are to save everyone on Earth, we shall first start with Roy."

Fearless returned her statement with a quizzical look. Ebbe gestured to Moon Face before it clicked what she had said.

"Moon Face," she corrected herself with a smirk.

Fearless shrugged, looking as if he may correct her further with the man's actual name, but instead resigning himself to her nick name. Without another word Fearless turned and nodded to Grim to follow him. Ebbe was about to follow suit, but a sideways glance from Fearless told her he was going to sort out his unit before they continued their journey.


Happy to be excluded from the family meeting, under the circumstance, Ebbe instead turned her back, confident he would regain control, or something that resembled it. She instead stared up at the starless sky, marvelling at the insanity of it all. Even in her wildest computations, she had never imagined that the Earth would still be bathed in light, when the Sun was no longer in the sky. The very concept that the Sun could just switch off in a split second was lunacy of the highest order. Suddenly her whole theory seemed infinitesimally too small minded. Everything she had based her hypothesis upon stemmed from the existing knowledge of mankind. She had expected the sun to fade, because that's what it had been doing for decades now. That was a crack pot theory up until about twenty minutes ago. Now it was a modest, but misguided concept. As to how to put it right. God only knew, but Ebbe didn't care. As long as she had breath in her lungs, she would seek out a solution and by God, those who had tried to kill her would damn well listen to anything she had to say. 

The answer was up there somewhere. 

"Ebbe," Fearless shouted from the drivers seat of the Land Rover, "time to go."

Ebbe gave one last glance over the surreal sight of black sky over seemingly sunlit fields before turning and jogging lightly back to the vehicle.

"I know a place we can go," Fearless told her, patting the passenger seat insistently. Ebbe nodded, glancing to the rear of the Land Rover. Shakes had now been relegated to the boot, though unlike Grim, he had not been tied. Grim himself, was sitting on the rear seat with Moon Face's head on his lap.

"Ma'am," Grim nodded with a serious face. Ebbe chose not to respond, still not entirely trusting him. Grasping the roof of the Land Rover she hoisted herself up and slammed the door shut. 


Without another word Fearless twisted the key in the ignition and the Land Rover roared to life with unusual vigour. 


As they pulled away Ebbe had a vision. In her mind's eye she could see a white trail coursing through the sky. A rocket was surging its way upwards, towards the unknown. The answer was up there somewhere. And so, up there was where she needed to be. Time, Ebbe concluded, for one last field trip.

Chapter 4 - Part 1

Ebbe needed to drive. She had told a lie to Fearless Leader and it seemed easier to paper over the fabrication by not having to speak. The need to navigate meant every direction necessitated talking, and talking inevitably led to more talking, about where and what and why. Ebbe reasoned Anthony would soon distract himself with the possible fate of Moon Face, and the chance that Grim Reaper would be able to free himself and cause more trouble.


Ebbe was herself worried about Moon Face. She had hoped he would prove to be an key asset and now he was probably dead, brain dead or paralysed. It seemed unfair that Shakes and Grim Reaper survived the melee unscathed. But, fate always did have a morbid sense of humour. This impromptu road trip for one. Jorge getting custody of Sam. How long had it been now, since I've since my little boy, Ebbe asked herself, not really wanting to hear the answer.


The shuddering as the Land Rover came to a halt, shook Ebbe from her thoughts, much to her relief. Anthony had found a lay-by opposite an outcrop of Beech trees. For miles all they had seen was bush lined road. It had struck Ebbe that she truly detested those cramped country roads, winding their way through claustrophobic woods and miles of farm land, hidden from view by unruly bushes. How delightful it was to see a valley tumbling away far into the distance, the sun just threatening to break over the horizon and flood the quilt-work of farmed fields with egg yolk orange. It was nothing, Ebbe felt, compared to the magnificent sunrises that lit up the plains back home. When the sun chose to bless those wide open spaces with its morning glow, it was as if the world was being born for the very first time. 


But today, at least, the ubiquitous clouds had stayed away and allowed Ebbe to wallow in the morning light, something she had not done for a long time. The truth was, she had been afraid to, because she feared it may reveal to her the awful truth she already suspected. Ebbe didn't usually do fear, it seemed a waste of energy, but in this case, it was a wholly justifiable and inescapable fear. Everything she had researched, all the facts and figures she had checked, led to one inescapable fact. She had opted to tell Fearless Leader that she needed to take him to Kielder Observatory because a lie worked better with a grain of truth. He may know the observatory wasn't all that far away from here, he could obviously connect pictures of the moon to an observatory, and, technically she did need to show him the skies. But not there. All the public observatories were heavily monitored. 

God, Ebbe hated being a paranoid conspiracy theorist, but when all was said and done, governments are afraid of the truth. It was the governments that created paranoia by starting to cover up something that cannot be obscured. Sure, individuals can be silenced, information withheld, explanations fabricated, but all of that takes effort, money and men like Fearless back there. Ebbe wondered why it never entered their silly little minds to just reach out to the people they try to suppress. Why not just ask us, what does this all mean, what can we do about it and will it help to tell the world? After all, what use is clinging onto power, if everything is going to end? But people fool themselves with the what ifs. What if we're wrong? Ebbe liked to call this the Jaws Syndrome; people in power unwilling to cause panic for fear of adversely affecting business and politics. What if there is no shark? What if we drive away tourists? What if we drive away business? Sensible in theory, but it quickly leads to irrational behaviour. Even if there is a shark, how likely is it to kill someone? Why risk livelihoods on the off-chance. It suddenly struck Ebbe that Moon Face reminded her of Roy Scheider from the film. Maybe that's why I liked him, she pondered. 


It was only as this thought crossed her mind that Ebbe realised that she had been staring directly into the rising sun, with Shakes beside her doing exactly the same. 


A sudden choking feeling swarmed over Ebbe, her throat contracting as if she were going into anaphylactic shock. Desperately trying to suck in gaps of the cool morning air, Ebbe stumbled aside, her head fogging, patches of light obscuring her vision. From the corner of her eye she was vaugely aware that she had stumbled to the right, away from Shakes, who had turned to look at her, but had done nothing to assist. Ebbe tried to shout out to him, possibly for help, possibly to give him a piece of her mind, she wasn't sure which at this stage. 


Her waving hand found the smooth bark of the nearby Beech trees, and, with a mighty effort Ebbe managed to steady herself. She forced the smiling face of Sam wearing his favourite cowboy outfit into her mind. She needed a happy memory and his fifth birthday party had remained a particularly vivid recollection. He had begged her for a fancy dress party for months,purely because he wanted to dress as a cowboy after seeing a John Wayne film on TV. Which one was it? True Grit, Ebbe thought, though she wasn't completely sure, they all seemed the same to her. But Sam had become obsessed with all things cowboy and had already set his mind on being one when he grew up. Never mind that he lived in Cape Town and his mother was an astronomer and his dad was a marine biologist. 


Ebbe felt her breathing returning to normal, although her mind was still swimming, presumably from the lack of oxygen. Thank you sweetheart, she said to the smiling little cowboy in her mind. As her clouded vision began to return Ebbe couldn't resist pulling out a tattered photograph from her hip pocket. She didn't even notice that she had started to cry as she looked at the picture. In it, a boy of about eight was sitting astride a log, pointing up at the sky, his face excited. It wasn't the best picture of Sam, he was a small figure in the corner and you couldn't see his beautiful blue eyes. The focus was clearly on the sky, which was the desert sky, just as night was approaching. Just after the magic hour of sunset, but before the light dissipated completely. The North star was just visible, if you knew where to look. Ebbe knew where to look without following the pointing finger of her excited little boy, but her eyes always followed it regardless. From his rosy cheeks, across to his shoulder, along his stubby little arm and from the finger at an almost perfect right angle, was the faint star. 


Ebbe was suddenly aware she wasn't alone. She hadn't heard him approaching and that told her it must be Fearless Leader. Shakes was too twitchy to be sneaking silently through the woods.


"Fearless?" She almost whispered, shocked to hear her own weak, tearful sounding voice. "Er... Anthony?" She corrected, feeling daft for using her nick name directly.


"Ma'am?" Came the polite response, confirming it was Fearless as suspected. I've got to connect with this man, Ebbe told herself, it's good if he sees me in this fragile state. What greater power does woman wield over man than that of her emotions?


"Ebbe," she insisted, feeling the need to ensure they affirmed their status as friends, on an equal footing, rather than based on any other power dynamic.


"Ebbe. Look," Anthony began. But Ebbe really felt now was a good time to reveal something. She looked vulnerable and he would instinctively want to listen to what she had to say. He may even believe it.


"Anthony," she started, but as quickly found herself unable to say the words. It occurred to her that she had yet to say any of it out loud. She wanted to scream it out, to tell this man to stare at the sun and tell her what was wrong with it. He may not see it at first, we all get attuned to our environment and see what we care to see. "Anthony," she tried again, aware that he was holding back what he wanted to say, sensing, as she had hoped that she was finally going to explain what all her doomsayering was about. Why is it so hard to say, Ebbe cursed. Am I too suffering from Jaws Syndrome, too fearful of reactions to shout shark? 


Ebbe stepped closer to Anthony, his face drained of colour in the shade of the trees, his eyes boring into her intensely. "Anthony," she started again, hoping the next words from her mouth would be to tell him the sun was not bright enough, that the sun was fading. Just as the moon was shrinking and stars were coming and going like blinking led lights. Bloody hell, tell him!


"Ebbe," Fearless Leader interjected, before himself pausing, as if awaiting permission to continue. Fine, I had my chance to tell him, and I blew it. He's got more worldly concerns on his mind. Moon Face most likely. He's had time to check him out and has discovered the bullet entered his brain and never left. It was obvious to Ebbe, but she hadn't wanted to get involved in the discussion. "Art has a bullet lodged in his brain. He could be paralysed. If we don't get him immediate medical care, he could die," Fearless said, exactly as she expect him to. 


For a second Ebbe wondered whether to knock back the concern about his friend with her galactic issues. But instead the scene with Roy Scheider being mimicked by his son at the dinner table popped into her head and she made a snap decision.

 "Then we must find him a doctor," Ebbe said, "I'm rather fond of Moon Face." 

And with that she quickly turned about face and marched off, slipping the photo of Sam back into her hip pocket without a second glance. 

As she strode through back to the Land Rover, Ebbe realised she had completely blind sided Fearless Leader yet again. She found herself smiling to herself with satisfaction as she turned back to shout after him.

"You coming?" 

But before either of them had reached the vehicle, a screeching shout echoed across the valley, sending a shiver down Ebbe's spine. In a split second Anthony's vast bulk sprinted past her like a freight train. In a blur she saw him launch himself upon the figures tussling in the back of the Land Rover.

Ebbe watched with wide eyed awe as Fearless Leader wrenched Grim Reaper from Shakes and tossed him to the ground. Tentatively she stepped forward, wanting to hear what was being said. But as Grim Reaper hissed something and gestured to Shakes, she suddenly sensed a wall of cold air hit her back. Before she turned, Ebbe could see Fearless and Grim Reaper staring up at the sky, terror reflected in their eyes. Fearless dropped his gun and staggered backwards. Grim Reaper was rooted to the spot, his eyes agape.

This is it, Ebbe told herself, it has begun.

Chapter 3 - Part 2

The sun crested the horizon, it's bright orange hue reflecting off the scattered clouds. Ebbe had insisted on taking over driving duties, rather than navigate verbally. Anthony was happy to oblige, because it gave him an opportunity to check up on Art. 

They had stopped at a lay-by near an small outcrop of beech trees, atop a hill that revealed miles of open farm land rolling as far as the eye could see. He estimated they had driven thirty plus miles and he was confident that so far there was no obvious sign they were being followed. He didn't for a second assume that meant they weren't be monitored one way or the other. He'd be surprised if the agency didn't know exactly where they were, or where they were heading. That was a bridge he'd have to blow up once they got to it. All he really wanted was to know what the bloody hell Ebbe was so scared of and why she couldn't just say it out loud. She seemed like a straight talking type, so why all the mystery? 

Cody had stepped out of the Land Rover and was staring at the sun as it finally broke free from the land and began it's daily ascent. It hadn't passed Anthony's attention that Cody hadn't uttered a word since they left the farmhouse. He wasn't exactly Mister Mouth at the best of times, but it was starting to unnerve Anthony. The kid was a jittery little bugger and under the circumstances Anthony figured he was the type to find the extended silence disconcerting. He'd seen Cody's type before; they want to be in the action so bad, acting so cool, but as soon as the temperature rose, they'd start yacking away like a God damned novelty Christmas toy. But Cody seemed shell shocked, traumatised. It was in his eyes, partly because he was avoiding eye contact, partly because if you did connect, all you saw was yourself reflected back. He seemed a little empty. That was a concern. A yackity yakker can be silenced. An empty vessel is harder to refill, unless you know where the leak is.

Jake had yet to stir, which was of concern only because Anthony knew he hadn't hit him that hard. It was more likely he was choosing to stay quiet, conserving his energy until an opportunity arose. He's a shark that sonofabitch, Anthony thought, as he checked the bindings on his arms and legs were still sufficient. Grim Reaper, she called you. If only she knew how right she was. 

Art was also still out cold. That was less unexpected, after all, the silly sod had gone and got himself shot, despite all orders to the contrary. He was still breathing and now they had a moment of pause, Anthony opted to see if he could discern how bad the wound really was. After all, if they had to postpone their stargazing trip to take Art for medical attention, so be it. With utmost care, Anthony used his right hand to gently raise Art's limp head. With the fingers on his left hand he search the blood encrusted hair for an entry wound. He hoped and prayed there was none, that it was a flyby. But Art had not so much as twitched since the farmhouse, that was a sure sign that a bullet had found his skull.

There! A bloody hole. That does it. Anthony placed Art's head back carefully and stood with determination, his eyes searching for Ebbe. She wasn't with Cody, who was still staring at the sweeping landscape. She wasn't by the Land Rover, or sitting in the driver's seat, as she had been only a few minutes earlier. In fact Anthony realised he'd lost track of her. 

You're losing it bucko, he cursed himself. There was a time when no man could make a move without his knowledge. Many a recruit had accused him of having eyes in the back of his head. But it was nothing more simple than making use of all available senses. Movement usually creates sound, or vibrations and even smells. Tobacco on clothes, the burger from lunch or the perfume of the woman you'd been with last night. But Ebbe didn't smoke, hadn't eaten recently and had no trace of perfume he could discern. And she was, Anthony pointed out, no man. Maybe she knew all his tricks. After all, somehow she had convinced a highly trained group of assassins to abandon their orders to eliminate her, and, to take her on trip to look at the moon. 

Her absence was starting to irritate him. He had intended to tell her the family vacation was over. That they were taking Art to get immediate medical attention, before he was permanently paralysed, if he wasn't already after being bounced around on these bloody country roads. He stood on the floor of the Land Rover, and hoisted himself up, trying to scan the general area for where she may have got to. But to his continuing annoyance she wasn't anywhere to be seen.

"Cody!" Anthony bellowed in frustration. Cody didn't react, staring pointlessly at the sun, having now shed it's early morning orange. "Cody, damn you! Where's Ebbe?" Anthony repeated, jumping down from the Land Rover. Cody turned slowly, his face still vacant. "Ebbe!" Anthony repeated slowly as he strode towards Cody.

A flicker of recognition passed across Cody's face and he simply nodded and gestured towards the beech trees. Anthony grunted in gratitude and made a quick right turn, but keeping his determined pace.

As he approached the trees he could see nothing. They were only a dozen or so, tall thin silver trunked trees, with scant leaves on the branches. Anthony peered through the foliage and upon seeing nothing was about to turn and castigate Cody for wasting his time, when he sensed movement in one of the few shadowed areas. He stepped forward cautiously, assuming it to be Ebbe, but also wary it could be the team sent in to clean up his mess. 

He took two more steps before his relaxed his guard. It was Ebbe. But not the strong, defiant woman he had so far seen. Instead she was on he knees, and she had something clasped tightly in her hands. It seemed to Anthony that was was praying at first. But as he took a few more tentative steps forward, he realised she was crying. Not the loud wailing sobs of a woman in mourning, but quiet restrained tears, almost silent. Suddenly feeling self-conscious Anthony paused and instead of approaching Ebbe he stepped backwards, melding into the shadowed recess of a nearby bush. He could just make out the corner of a photo in Ebbe's clasped hand, but any image was obscured by her fingers and distance.

I'll explain to her about Art when she comes back. Anthony thought as he took one last glance at Ebbe, looking disconcertingly frail to him. She is such an enigma to me, Anthony pondered; one moment I peg her to be a highly trained government operative, the next she just a civi who saw the wrong thing at the wrong time, and is doing her best to cope with the consequences.


Careful not to make a sound on the leaves and twigs beneath his feet, Anthony began to step away, back to the Land Rover.


"Fearless?" Came a small voice. Anthony paused, unsure if the voice was addressing him. "Er, Anthony..." The voice came again, a little more sure, a little more steady. It was Ebbe, she'd either heard or seen him. Again, she showed supernatural powers of observation, that disproved her being just another civi. In all his years in the field he'd only been made three times. If Anthony didn't want to be seen, he wasn't seen. This bloody woman is wrong-footing me every time, he cursed as he emerged from the shadow and made himself known.


"Ma'am?" he heard himself saying, having not expected to sound so formal.


"Ebbe," she insisted, as if aware that he had really wanted to use her name.


"Ebbe. Look," he began, intending to explain how serious Art was, and whatever it was that was so urgent would just have to wait.


"Anthony," she interrupted as she stood. Her face was still tear stained and she made no conscious effort to disguise the fact or clean up. Anthony found himself powerless, waiting to know what she was about to say. After all, it didn't matter, let her say her piece and then when he told her about Art, she'd be sure to understand. If an unsentimental bastard like me can muster up some emotion,he reasoned, then she will surely be a softer touch. "Anthony," she repeated for a third time as she approached him. He expected her to continue, but instead she remained silent until she reached him. Her moist eyes seared their way into his soul as she locked onto him. Suddenly he felt like a deer in headlights, captivated by her high beam gaze. He knew at that moment that she was about to hit him with something more important than Cody's vacant eyes, Jake's likely plot for vengeance, the eyes assuredly keeping tabs on them, and, more important even than Art's possible paralysis. 


"Ebbe," he started, wanting to get his speech in first, hoping it may stay her tongue and allow him to continue with his efforts to save Art. He feared should she speak she would defrost his resolve and again bend his will to her own. He was glad to find she had continued to pause, seemingly content to let him say his piece. "Art has a bullet lodged in his brain. He could be paralysed. If we don't get him immediate medical care, he could die." A sense of relief ebbed through Anthony the second he had finished. Ebbe had not flinched as he spoke, but, through her eyes, he could see that sharp brain of hers processing his words. 


He expected her to say 'no, we can't do that and this is why,' and she would then reveal something to startling, so devastating that he would have no choice but to concur. Curiously, Anthony felt okay with this.


"Then we must find him a doctor," Ebbe said instead, much to his surprise, "I'm rather fond of Moon Face." And with that she broke off her gaze and surreptitiously slipped the photograph into her hip pocket. Off she marched, leaving a bewildered Anthony in her wake. "You coming?" She shouted back, snapping him out of his shock. Anthony nodded as if she could still see him, before turning tail and heading back to the Land Rover slowly.


A sudden shout stirred him fully from his confusion and he broke into an instinctual sprint. Within seconds he had passed Ebbe and could already see that something was amiss in the Land Rover. Without slowing his pace he could discern Cody in the rear seat, his body shaking as if he were having a fit. Anthony already knew he had made a huge mistake leaving the vehicle unattended. Jake was loose and had probably already finished off Art and was now attacking Cody. 


Anthony threw himself like a bear attacking it's prey, lunging out at Jake, who had his bony fingers wrapped around Cody's neck. Cody's eyes had rolled back, his face puffy. 


"Let him go!" Anthony bellowed as he pressed gripped and twisted into the pressure point running along the ridge of muscle connecting Jakes neck and shoulder. Jake screamed in pain and instinctively released his own grip. Cody tumbled backwards, gasping for air. Anthony increased his grip, tugging Jake backward from the vehicle and causing him to drop to the ground. Anthony had already whipped out his firearm and had it pointed directly at Jake. "I ought to put you down right now," Anthony scowled, "your God damn bullet is still lodged in Art's head. D'yer know that?"


Jake writhed on the ground before twisting himself to look back up at Anthony with fire in his eyes.

"It wasn't my bullet, sir," Jake hissed, "it was his," he finished, gesturing at Cody, still gasping and rubbing his neck.