#thewarhounds

She stood over Igraine, gun drawn, who was crouched, patching up a civilian who hadn’t made it out of the building when they overtook it. A young teen girl. 

Henderson and Edwards sat outside the other room, backs to the door, to allow privacy and allow Igraine to treat her without the veil on. There were other soldiers still in the building, directing people in and out. The pile of bodies of their fighters was on the main floor, hauled down there. They’d have to take them out soon; the combination of death, decay and heat would only make the place unbearable. 

“Alright, sweetie, you can put the veil back on. We’re going to send you out with someone,” Igraine finished bandaging her neck and chest when the girl put her veil back over her face. Igraine took her black latex gloves off and deposited them on the table next to her, before escorting the girl out the door to another female soldier to walk out. 

“I’m seeing a pattern, First Sergeant Dawson,” Henry spoke again, calmly, as he looked through the glass of his sniper rifle. He’d been seeing it now for an hour. There was a distinct pattern of people coming and going, looking and checking the building. “What exactly is supposed to be in here that’s valuable besides killing some of these guys?” 

“Stand down.” Her only directive. She wasn’t going to talk about this out in the open.

Henderson pushed open the door, allowing Edwards to walk in first, before letting out a low whistle, “Check out these digs. They pretend it’s just sand out here, but this is nice.”

“What pattern?” Igraine asked, pressing her comms. 

“Are there still women and children in the building?” Henry answered as he eyed the truck that was six klicks away through his binoculars. It wasn’t fast approaching, but the group that had settled at the edge of the city was looking toward it expectantly. 

“Yes,” Marney said. “Granger, tell me what the fuck is going on up there.”

Henderson went to the window, pulling back the drapes to look out at the city. He didn’t notice anything, and that was what was noticeable. The streets had started clearing. The outrage that had been pouring out as they ran through the streets had dissipated. 

“Hey, trucks, five of them coming in hot!” Henry shouted over comms, immediately looking to see when they’d come in range. He signaled to the other rooftop, hoping they’d be able to both take a shot, re-rack and take out all five vehicles. They were kicking up dust with a purpose.

The sound of surrounding gunfire made everyone pause and immediately take cover. 

Finally, they heard Briggs, “Air support has been notified. Ground support has left—hold that building—we wait until we hear more from central command. The only thing you worry about is keeping them out.”

“That’s great,” Igraine replied sarcastically as she met Henderson on the other side of the window, peeking out. A shot cracked the glass, immediately knicking her helmet and hitting the wall behind them. She held her breath and retreated to the wall, licked her lips, and shot a look over to Marney. The mission was going to hell. 

Marney immediately opened the doors, retreating to the middle of the building, “What do you mean by ' hold the building '? We were supposed to take it and turn it over for the next team to ransack. I’ve got maybe twenty guys in here.”

“I said what I said; do not forget who you’re talking to. Hold the building. Those are your direct orders.”

“Two klicks!” Henry called out simultaneously. 

“Thank you for your service.Over and out.”

The gunfire increased on the lower floors. Marney heard the three other officers giving out orders and directions over comms, putting them into formation to hold down the doors and windows. “Switch channels!” she ordered her own team.

All of them tuned their comms so it was just them. “What’s the pattern, Granger?” Marney questioned again. 

“They’ve got something in those trucks. We’ve taken out one van, but they’ve gotten smart. There’s shit covering their windows. I can’t get a shot, let alone a clean one,” he responded. “We’re going to take a hit.”

Marney stomped back into the room, mouth in a hard line, before she shouted, “We get out of here now, Iggy left flank, Edwards right flank, and Henderson pull up the rear. I’m not holding shit. Granger, you get off that roof!” 

“Air support. Air support. We’re downed two and three injured,” cut through Igraine’s comms one of their soldiers.

Igraine still had a duty: “I have to go; I have two of them downed. I can’t leave.” She stepped out of formation in the hallway to look down over the stairs. Rapid gunfire was heard below. A hand pulled her vest back, Henderson holding onto her under Marney’s orders. 

“Let the other medic get them. You were responsible for this floor and the two floors above,” Marney said. 

Igraine bristled, pulling from Henderson. “I took an oath!” 

“And I took an oath to get you home; I’ve never lied, and you will not make me a liar now.” Both women were in each other’s faces as Igraine restrained herself from rushing down the stairs.

The building was surrounded. 

“One klick! They’re opening fire—” he watched as they sent the projectile into the other building across the street. He covered his face as the explosion happened, sand, dust, and concrete flying around. It reverberated, rocking their building. The impact hit the upper levels of the building, rippling through the side of the structure until the roofline buckled and the section beneath his counterpart gave way, collapsing in on itself, crumbling out into the streets. 

It was acceptance, blue eyes widened at the sight until he was looking down the barrel of the other projectile. They were going to get buried in a mass grave, unknown men and women alike, buried in the litter box of their operations. 

Henry pressed his comms: “Everyone, unfuck yourself one last time and brace for impact.” His jaw clenched, body ready. The metaphorical train couldn’t be stopped, barreling at them at full speed where he heard it go off, headed straight toward them. He kept his post and aimed at two of the men who surrounded the truck. Immediately locking onto them and firing, re-racking and firing again, downing both of them. 

There isn’t a moment to think of anything clearly, no visual, just the generic shape of home and the feeling of unfinished business that sits on his chest. The chorus of his unit, questioning what was going on above, was in his right ear.

The strike hit the floor below him on the east side, where he is, his unit underneath his feet, but there is nothing Henry can do to minimize the damage. The blast tore through the building, weakening the roof and the floor beneath his position. The audible cracking sound of concrete as it shifted, the concrete completely under his feet. Plumes of smoke billowed from the side of the building, Ash and soot in his throat, causing him to cough and wheeze. He’s blinded, unable to see anything. 

The whole building shakes, and he’s dropped half an inch. The roof groaned below him, metal twisting inside the walls, before the entire section beneath his boots gave way. For one terrifying second, there is nothing, no ground or control, and just gravity.

It collapsed inward, and he fell with it, hands grasping at debris falling around him, down into the fifth floor of the building. He twisted instinctively, trying to protect his head, but there was nowhere for his body to go but down into the fourth floor as things crumbled in.

Henry hit the fourth floor hard enough that he didn’t know if he heard the impact or felt it. The ground next to him gave way, but the concrete he’d landed on didn’t budge, instead leaving a gaping giant hole straight to the third floor of the building, where his team was.

He tried to move and flexed his hand and hovered it over his chest on the necklace he had, crystal for protection, whatever shit hex girl had done, had carried him through all his deployments and probably his last. The pain caught him to him and he quickly shielded his face as rubble came down from the hole above him, hitting him. 

The rest of the team had heard his comms and braced themselves, but it wasn’t enough. The first thought was that the explosion was fine; it wasn’t their floor. Edwards had looked up, covered his head and shouted, “Above!” 

The entire ceiling, steel, concrete, and all, had come down over their heads. 

“Henderson! Rush that recovery request and get it pushed. I can’t hear Henry,” She ordered. Edwards tackled her to the ground, covering her head with his body as Henderson dodged the rubble that was falling on their heads. His voice was shaky and stern, screaming for them to come through. He’d gone over Brigg’s head to a mutual friend, telling them to get in there. He knew they had Air Force Pararescue on standby for this mission, especially. 

“Recovery element copies. Personnel recovery request confirmed. We are moving to your location. Maintain communication. Stand by for further instructions.”

“Henry!” Marney shouted when she pushed Edwards off of her. She stalked the space that was left, even climbing up onto the rubble to try and get closer to see if she could hear him. “I swear to god Granger, you answer me right this goddamn minute!”

He heard her. He made every concentrated effort to whisper into the comms, but nothing came out of his mouth; he was choking on ash.

The anguished scream and cry of Igraine came next, and all three heads turned to see that she’d gotten caught under the collapse, a piece of cement trapping her lower foot, going into the floor and pinning her against the rest of the rubble. When Henderson rushed to her side, he saw the full extent of the damage. Part of her tibia had pierced through her pants. 

“You can’t move it. Get my bag. I need, I need a fucking tourniquet. Cut my pants; can’t do it over pants, need skin contact,” Igraine cried, breathless between instructions as she tried to regulate her breathing. She braced her hands on her thigh, trying to keep her leg as still as possible. “I’m going to pass out,” she warned, breathing heavily. 

“FUCK!” Edwards panicked, sliding in next to James, grabbing the pack from under the desk and pulling out the medical supplies he’d seen before. 

Marney knew they had her and used the opportunity to push open the doors to see if she could get back out into the hallway where the stairwell was to get to Henry. She’d pull him down to the rest of the team. After she’d cleared the room, she saw the stairs had been mangled, chipped away, left broken by the crashing cement. There wasn’t a way to get to him. She’d have to climb over the cement and steel in their room to the open hole. 

She could hear Igraine crying out, sobbing as Edwards supported her back and James ripped her pants, getting the tourniquet on her leg to stop the bleeding. 

“She’s knocked out,” Edwards said, letting Igraine's head gently rest back against the rock. “We have to get this shit off of her.”

“On it,” Henderson quickly motioned for him to help move the fallen piece off of her leg, and after minutes of grunting and gritting their teeth, they’d done it. The pool of blood under her leg was managed, but her leg looked like it had been inhumanly broken into pieces. “I need to dress this and stabilize it.” 

Marney was back on comms: “I need reinforcements; I’m two men down.” 

No one responded. 

They were being abandoned. 

Igraine had come to after being out for minutes, the pain rushing back to her brain. She gritted her teeth, tears leaking down her face. Her voice was raw from the screams; silent sobs came next as Henderson held her tightly to him. 

“It’s alright, Igs. Marney’s working on a way out, alright?” He looked up at Marn, cupped Igraine’s head to his chest and tried to  “We’re going home soon.”

The blonde hadn’t ever been that silent. They heard screaming two floors down. The enemy was going to close in, and she shared a look with Henderson. He knew exactly what she was contemplating, and he shook his head in disagreement.

“We’re going to have to move her.” Edwards looked at her ankle, still held down by a steel beam. She wouldn’t be able to slip her foot through. “I don’t know how, but we have to get this off. We have to try to hide or get somewhere, but right now our asses are hanging out, and they’re moving up.”

Igraine sniffed, “Henry.”

Marney looked up; he’d have to be up there. “Chris, could you scale this thing and try to get up there? The stairs are wrecked. No one is coming in or out. If we can get up there and find him…maybe Henderson and I can get her out, and he can carry her up there.”

“On it,” Edwards stood up, brushed the dust from himself and unhooked some of his pack, dropping it next to Igraine before approaching the rubble. It wasn’t easy, but he began his ascent, grabbing onto places that he could hook a foot into or not, like rock climbing. He eased himself up, pushing through some of the smaller rubble once he’d gotten up close to the opening in the ceiling.

Igraine had calmed down, slowed her breath, the pain still radiating through her leg. “Marn,” she called out, voice shaky. “James, you can let me go. You should be watching the door,” Igraine gritted out and shifted as he let her go, shifted away and pulled his gun from his shoulder. 

“Don’t do anything until I’m back,” he ordered, looking between the women. 

He stared at them for a moment longer than needed, trying to make peace with their situation before dipping down to kiss Igraine on the top of her head. He held his breath when he got to Marney, grabbed the back of her neck and tapped their foreheads together, as they’d done for the past three decades before shit hit the fan. She held him there, saying more with her eyes than her words.

He’d known her so long he didn’t need to hear her voice to know what was going to happen.

James let her go and immediately marched across the room and shut the door behind him to head out into the hallway. They needed eyes out here. He could hear below that they were trying to decipher how to get onto the next floor, as two of the stairways had been blocked. 

That would give them time to either pray for a miracle or the inevitable. 

“I’ve got him!” Edwards called finally. “He’s—he’s breathing; the pulse is slow, but it’s there.”

He held two fingers to Henry’s neck, feeling a soft but steady pulse.

“Stay with him!” Marney called up to him before turning her attention to Igraine. “We gotta get you out of this.” She looked down at her ankle, still trapped. Her hands were soft when she tried to point her ankle down, tried to slip it out, but it only contorted her bone further, making Igraine bite the inside of her cheek, drawing blood. 

“No… no, no, stop!” The veins in her neck popped out as her jaw stayed open, trying to cry silently. 

Marney quickly let go, holding her hands up. “I’m sorry!” 

Igraine licked her dry lips and unclipped her pistol, pulling it out and laying it next to her. “I saw your look,” she started, “if we can’t get out of here. That’s your solution.”

Marney didn’t know where to start: “Honey, that’s been my solution for thirty-something odd years. You don’t want to go down that route. We’re not even supposed to be here. If you get taken, the government won’t negotiate. There won’t be protests in the street to get you back. We don’t exist here.”

“I counted,” she said and lifted her pistol up. The magazine dropped just enough into her palm for a quick press check. She counted the brass gleaming through the witness holes—three rounds. Not enough. She slammed the magazine back into the grip until it clicked. “Three.”

“We’re trying not to come to that,” Marney insisted with a firmer tone. 

Igraine smiled softly, “Henderson’s going to come back and I can’t move. You’re going to leave one more gun with me and when they come through…”

She hadn’t thought it through, really, but it made the most sense that she was the only one not able-bodied. Marney and James could climb up through the hole to get up to Henry and Edwards. She couldn’t do it anymore, and she was in pain she hadn’t imagined before. Even when her skin was melting from her body, and she’d almost lost her arm.

“Fuck you, Igraine. Have I ever given you the impression I’d ever let you go down that alone?” Marney snapped at her. “Then I hadn’t been clear before. We’re all here. We either get out together, or we don’t.”

“I’m stuck here. Unless you break my fucking ankle and we crush it through the steel. I’m not leaving.” Igraine’s tears returned. “I don’t want to fight with you—not like this—not now.”

“Ever since I first met you, you’ve breathed down my neck; always keep a round in the chamber; count your bullets. I know what it’s for. I know why you keep the extra ones in your boot. I’m not making you pull it on me.”

The building shook again suddenly, and Henderson rushed back into the room, slamming it shut, dark red blooming under his uniform, staining his right side. His head hit the back of the door that he slammed shut before rushing around, pulling as much furniture that had been in the room and not stuck to the ground to stick against the door. 

“What the fuck?” Marney questioned. 

Henderson didn’t answer her right away, stacking what he could. “That was me, grenade. In the south hallway, I collapsed the last set of stairs. They can’t make it up here,” he answered firmly before turning back to grip his side. “Got fucking shot, but it went clean through. It’s fine. It’s not the worst of it.”

“What are we doing with Iggy?” Edwards called down. 

Igraine contemplated the same thing before she sighed, “Break it.”

“What?” James questioned, brows furrowed in concentration as he looked from Marney to Igraine. 

She gritted her teeth and tried to flex her ankle. “Marney is going to break my ankle to give me a better chance at getting out of here, right?” She looked up at her, imploring her to listen. “I can survive broken bones, but I can’t survive a bullet to the head, right?” 

“No, that’s crazy.”

James sighed, “Do it. What other choice?”

Marney spun around, “Call again. They confirmed they had our location.”

“My guy can only do so much, Marn. I don’t know if they’re coming. They confirmed, but I haven’t gotten anything on comms since. I’ve no fucking clue, but I can’t leave either of you,” he said from his seat against the door. As if there was any brute force left in him if they pushed through.

“There’s no way they think any of us survived this; we just have to wait it out,” she insisted, not believing her own lies.

Igraine shifted uncomfortable again, cheeks blotched red. “Give me the fighting chance, Marney. I don’t want to use this.” She lifted her pistol an inch off the ground before resting her hand back. “Don’t let me make you a liar, not when we’re two months away from leaving.”

The shift in the air is immediate.

There’s an air of certainty because Marney’s made her decision and slides to Igraine’s feet, dropping to her knees. “I’ll let you kick my ass after this.” She looked back at Igraine. “Wait, bite this.” She grabbed a strap of leather and shoved it into her.

“Ladies,” Henderson urged. 

“Fuck you,” both muttered. 

It was quiet for a whole minute as she inspected the best way to do it. 

The leather tasted like dust and old sweat. Igraine bit down on it without argument, jaw already trembling. Her breathing came in short, uneven pulls as she looked from the mangled angle of her trapped leg to Marney's face.

"Do it before I lose my nerve."

Marney squeezed her shoulder once, hard enough to hurt. "On three."

Igraine closed her eyes.

One.

She clamped down on the leather until her jaw ached.

Two.

Everything around them disappeared—the settling groan of the building, Henderson cursing under his breath, the ringing in her ears.

Three.

Marney moved, and pain detonated through Igraine's leg, white-hot and absolute. Her entire body arched off the floor, every muscle locking as a strangled scream was swallowed by the leather between her teeth. Tears sprang instantly to her eyes. She couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. The world narrowed to blinding agony that seemed to split her in half.

"I'm sorry," Marney kept saying, voice cracking now. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

The resistance gave way, and Igraine nearly blacked out as the pressure holding her captive released.

"She's out!" Marney shouted. “I need help lifting her!”

Henderson shoved himself off the door despite the blood running down his side. Every movement looked like it cost him, but he ignored it, limping forward to grab Igraine beneath one arm while Marney took the other. "Stay with me," Henderson ordered, breathless.

Igraine couldn't answer. The leather slipped from between her teeth as another cry escaped her, hoarse and broken. Her vision tunneled, blinking in and out while the room tilted violently around her.

"You don't get to check out," Marney snapped, tears streaking through the grime on her face. "Look at me."

Igraine managed to focus for half a heartbeat.

"There you are," Marney said, forcing a shaky smile. "That's my girl."

Together they hauled her clear of the wreckage, every jolt sending another wave of pain through her body. Henderson nearly collapsed under the effort, catching himself against the wall before pushing onward anyway.

Behind them, the damaged structure groaned again.

They lifted her and held on as they moved below the large opening. “We could have him lower something down; I’ll go up and help lift, and you can support from the bottom,” Marney thought out loud. Igraine’s head had lolled against her shoulder, taking deep, shaky breaths. Her body was heading into shock.

Henry groaned from above them, causing Chris to grab his canteen and quickly bring it to his lips, allowing him to swallow something besides the dust and ash. 

“You unfuck yourself?” 

Chris shook his head. “We’re beyond. Think this is it, buddy.” 

Henry’s head dropped to the floor again, a groan: “Don’t be queer with the goonies never say die shit—doesn’t look good on you.”

“Fuck you,” he laughed, “I’m a sensitive motherfucker.”

Both men chuckled

“I’m sensitive; I’m going to die and never taste hex girl ever again—see, that’s sensitive,” Henry coughed. 

Chris cracked a genuine smile and laughed loudly, “Man, you weren’t going to do that anyway. Get the fuck out of here and keep that shit to yourself. Save your strength, you dumb fuck.”

Henry chuckled to himself, breathing in slowly. 

Marney and James had yet to figure out how they were going to actually get her up and into the next level of the building. They were running low on time, and internally, Marney was panicking, looking from the doors to the windows. They couldn’t leave these two floors without