Nick's Mission, Part 4 (Improvisation)

Val is crouched down against the roof tiles, keeping out of the line of sight of the shooters waiting behind the van in the street below. Aden has dropped flat, facing the other direction, covering the laundry room window where the inside pursuers will soon appear. He knows they're proper fucked, that neither has enough cover, that once the ammo in his pistol runs out they are either dead or captured. If he knew who the enemy was, he'd have a better idea if surrender is even an option; right now, he's praying Ave has something up his sleeve.

His prayers are answered by the screech of brakes as Ave's sedan whips around the corner below and skids to a halt across both lanes of traffic. Before the two men below have time to respond, Ave has shoved the barrel of a Russian automatic carbine out the window of his car, opening fire on both men, dropping one and pinning the other behind the van. "Now!" Val yells, standing up far enough to grab onto a drain pipe, sliding down toward the street. She lands hard, falling to one knee and cursing; Aden is right behind her on the pipe, hitting the street with a credible parachute roll. Rising, he grabs Val's wrist, helping her up and sprinting for Ave's car. Ave is still firing out his driver window, the rear passenger door already opened for them. Val jumps in and presses into the back corner, making room for Aden to get in behind her. Before he's even closed the car door, Ave drops the carbine onto the passenger seat and hits the gas, throwing the car into reverse and backing fast down the street, the sounds of metal and glass crunching as the traffic behind them piles up trying to avoid the sedan heading the wrong way down the street. Someone fires at them, rounds punching holes in the windshield, spraying glass shards into the car. Val reaches forward, grabbing the carbine from the seat and rolling down her own window; Aden checks his pistol, six rounds left, and ducks down, watching the scenery spin by when Ave hits the emergency brake, throwing the sedan into a controlled spin. A second to go from reverse into gear and the sedan is racing down the street, Val watching for pursuers.

"Any idea who those guys are?" Ave asks, concentrating on the road ahead and his rear view mirror in short bursts.

"Either they're Ukranian secret police, or possibly the anarchists we were infiltrating," Val grunts, trying to keep an eye on the road while stretching her left leg out with a grimace.

"How bad?" Aden asks, pointing to her leg.

"Strained, maybe," she answers, frowning. "Matkojebca!" she curses, angry at herself. "I mistimed the landing like a stupid amateur." When she moves to sit up a little higher in the seat, the moment her left leg moves, her breath catches in her throat, pain lancing thru her. "I don't see anyone behind us."

"Police would have the building fully surrounded," Aden points out. "I think these guys aren't following because they only have the two teams. Might be your anarchists."

"Makes sense," Ave comments as he makes a sharp turn down a side road, starting to slow down to draw less attention.

"We need to dump this car," Aden warns, but Ave grins, amused.

"Ye of little faith," he laughs, turning the wheel and pulling off the road into a nearby parking lot. Pulling down to the back, he pulls over next to a non-descript moving van. "Time to go," he calls, jumping out as soon as the parking brake is engaged. While Aden helps Val out of the back seat, Ave opens the back of the van, grabbing something from the back and racing back to the car. Aden lifts Val up into the back, then slides in next to her, closing the van door as Ave runs back to the driver's door of the van. By the time he starts the van and begins to pull out, a white-hot flash and rolling smoke indicate that Ave's fire-bombed the sedan to remove evidence. Within five minutes, they are tooling down the street as if everything is normal.

Val pulls out her phone and begins texting someone. Aden pulls up the first-aid kit, seeking out some wrap and a pair of safety scissors. He cuts away Val's left pants leg; one look at the already-swelling knee confirms it's not broken. "How bad's the pain?" he asks Val; she finishes her texting and drops the phone into her lap.

"Seven on a ten-scale," she grunts. He pulls out a syringe, injects her just under the kneecap. She shakes her head, pissed off. "It has to be Marko," Val says. "He's local, and he knew the drop protocol. He must have switched sides."

"He puts the false message in, contacts the bosses and tells them you're blown and need an ex-fil, then sits back and waits for me to walk my dumb ass in and get grabbed, too." Aden runs through it a few times, decides. "Yeah, that plays. Is your plus-one important enough to risk our lives getting them out, too?"

Val nods. "I have to bring her out, too." She winces as the van hits a bumpy patch. "She has the data."

"If Marko knows about the op details, won't he already have your person in custody?"

"Not yet," Val sighs. "She was already inside before he and I came online here. She's one of about fourteen people connected to this cell. And she responded with an all clear to my text."

Ave and Aden both nod. All operators working undercover use a series of code phrases to let their handlers know if they have been taken prisoner, in order to prevent playback by the opposition. So they know the plus-one is okay at the moment. "What have you got set up?" Aden asks her.

"I sent her the flight code," Val answers, working her hand along her knee, massaging the muscle. "She'll pack up and head directly to a park where she will wait for four hours. If I haven't shown up by then, she bolts, goes to ground, and tries to make it out on her own."

Ave smiles. "I have a small plane on stand-by at the airport. Give me the address of the park, and we can be on our way out of here within two hours." He turns onto the highway, being careful to keep an eye out for any tails. "There's a bag of spare clothes over there by the first aid kit. Find yourself some pants."