Moving forward, I kept the gun raised at shoulder level, double-gripped and straight out. I climbed each step slowly, aware of the unsteadiness of my left ankle but not conscious of pain any more.
I leaned against the right-hand wall to make myself less of a target. I held my breath as I inched upwards.
I was on the fifth step, about two-thirds of the way up the stairs, when the surface beneath my right ankle gave way. My leg dropped through the shattered wood as my body crashed sideways, my arms flung out to try and keep my balance, my pistol banging against the side of the wall as I slumped against it.
Another trickle of sweat ran into my eye and I looked up to see the muzzle of a rifle aimed square at my face.
Chapter 10
The air was loud with gunfire.
A bullet slammed into my thigh, knocking me backwards, my right leg wrenched out of the damaged staircase as I tumbled down the stairs to land on the concrete floor. Captain Smith stood in the doorway, his automatic rifle blazing away.
Moments later the body of the Iraqi insurgent crashed down the stairs to land beside me, his head slapping against the hard floor. He didn’t cry out. He was dead.
I looked up at the doorway. My CO was silhouetted in a nimbus of light. ‘Thanks for the assist,’ I called out to him through clenched teeth.
‘De nada,’ he said and then dropped to his knees, his weapon clattering to the floor.
‘Captain,’ I said, dragging myself up and limping over to him.
‘Anne didn’t make it,’ he said, his voice a wet rasp. ‘I guess I didn’t, either.’
He fell forward and I held him to stop him collapsing to the ground. ‘Looks like it’s just you, Dan,’ he said.