War Dog

Chapter 89

"Makarovs not here." Ghosts voice over the comms. "Bomb deactivated. Heading back."

"Shit," Price muttered. My hands continue to work on disabling the bomb in front of me. Even without the sensitive noses of the two war dogs keeping the soldiers out of the area I could scent the fear in the air. Most of these hostages were women or children, a few elderly men. All people who could easily be dragged off the street. In the control cabin sat a train conductor, tied and taped to his chair. From what we were able to gather, the train was externally controlled, and was due to depart from this abandoned station, and to arrive at this busiest subway station in the city. Upon arrival it was geared to explode. Whatever Makarovs team had done to this set up, the online systems we used couldn't hack into it. Which is why they had me. Technology often could only go so far.

I had been tempted when Ceri arrived to pick her up in a hug. I'd sensed her hovering briefly deciding whether to approach, or to leave me to the bomb. Her retreat had made the most sense, and yet all I wanted to do was to give her any reassurances I could that we would all be fine. Instead, I doubled my thoughts back to my task, deciding that making those reassurances come true instead of just making them was the best way to reassure her. 

Hearing Laswell over the comms mentioning another bomb above surface had sent my heart thumping, shock sweeping over all of us. We knew it was a tactic to separate us, and it worked. I heard the gunshot from Clutch's gun, and the ferocity of Ceri's growling echoing off the walls. The sounds eased my tension at least knowing they held the fort keeping the soldiers away while I worked. Price's presence in the doorway of the train as he watched my back to ensure no one snuck past the two war dogs was comforting, and allowed me to focus fully on the cables spilling out from the guts of the bomb. It was not one I was familiar with, and had to figure my way around it before I could disable it.

"Shit." Prices curse was louder. "We have company." I heard the shooting become more aggressive and Ceri began barking as her War dog fully came out to play. The screams from her victims made the hostages wince and huddle away in fright, wondering what the hell could be causing the soldiers to make those sounds. 

"Go deal with it, I'll be fine here," I utter to Price, my focus not once leaving the bomb in front of me.

He hesitates for only a split second, looking at me before he joins the two war dogs. I hear his gun join the firefight, and yet I feel like it's not going to be doing all that much. From what I can hear outside, it's only a matter of time before they become over run. I try and rush, trying to move faster as I finally figure out how the bomb works. I carefully and painstakingly disable it. I make the last move, breath held tight waiting for it to explode in my face, wondering if I'd made a wrong move. When the bomb doesn't explode, I let out the breath I'd been holding and the tension in my shoulders ease. I look around at the hostages, and wonder what to do with them. I doubted any of them would know the bomb was disabled, and I didn't speak Russian. Even if the train departed with them inside of it, there was no longer any risk of explosion occurring. It made the decision easier. They were safer, even if somewhat scared, inside of the train. Any one who got past us would think the bomb was still active at a glance and as long as the hostages didn't act up, they'd be safe.

I held up my hand in the universal sign for wait here, and ducked out, ready to join the fight with my team. As I step out of the train, my eyes focus on a small team skulking around in the dark of the tunnel, clearly having come from a service corridor. I bring my gun up too slow. Makarovs evil grinning face. 

"Scared, Sergeant? You should be." 

"Go fuck yourself, Makarov," I growl back, fingers twitching on my gun tempted to risk it and attempt to shoot him before he shoots me.

"Tsk, MacTavish, such a rude mouth on you. Give my greetings to my men."

He pulls the trigger, and yet I find myself shoved out of the way a familiar growl greeting my ears until it stops suddenly. The gunshot so close echoes through my ears. I look around, disoriented from falling. My heart in my throat as I feel like I'm about to throw up from nerves. And then, it drops to the pit of my stomach. "No," I whisper desperately.