Chapter Sixteen

The Destroyer of Worlds

THE PENTAGON

WASHINGTON, USA

They were not prepared for this.

Since the end of Second World War, America had emerged on the global stage as a superpower and defended her borders against all enemies, foreign and domestic. With an annual expenditure of 600 billion dollars that was used to maintain the superiority of its army, navy and air force, America prided itself in its readiness to deal with any threat. In the wars that had come and gone, some hot, some cold, American had defended herself with varying degrees of success but never with half measures.

Thus it was with a sense of irony that General Dennis Etherton, Army Chief of Staff, watched the screen in front of him with the rest of the Joint Chiefs and the Secretary of Defence, without the faintest idea of what to do.

For almost four days, an unexplained phenomenon had disrupted the transmissions from their satellites in orbit. While the images had been poor, there was enough clarity in them to tell them that something was going on. Coupled with the reports from Europe, the images created fierce debate as to their validity as it appeared old world monsters were rampaging across the continents, acting as the vanguard for a mysterious non-human army.

Scientists had attributed the disruption to unpredicted solar flare but could not explain the creatures appearing in the broadcasts. Surely if this was a hoax, European broadcasters would be facilitating panic by showing them to the public? Logical reasons were applied to illogical occurrences even though the erratic images continued to flood the airwaves, challenging belief and sanity.

Then, less than an hour ago, the disruption cleared like a veil had been lifted from their eyes and now the transmissions, whatever their authenticity poured in with complete clarity and left no one any doubt as to what they were faced with.

In the war room of the Pentagon, Dennis joined the other military officials, collating what data they had received prior to the most recent transmissions, attempting to determine what was to be done about the situation.

One of their own submarine commanders, a respected and capable naval officer who had never shown an iota of aberrant behaviour in almost 30 years at sea, had reported sightings of undersea creatures that were terrorizing the Thames and were now moving rapidly up the Seine, snatching civilians off the shore as they progressed. British and French authorities were reporting a strange army of creatures moving through their cities, burning, pillaging and leaving so many dead that evacuation had become necessary.

Further evidence came in the camera footage from a squadron of US Gripen fighters that had been in England on exercises, revealing both theirs and British planes attacked in mid-flight. Large, reptilian creatures had intercepted them in the air and then ripped their fuselage apart while others were hit with what seemed like napalm. In flames and shredded, pilot were then discarded from their ruined cockpits like rubbish, sent screaming to their deaths from a thousand feet up. In Norway, more of the things were moving south and while these were not breathing fire, the towns that they had passed through had experienced an extreme case of flash freezing that no one survived. Whole towns were left encased in ice and those who had not died frozen were slaughtered in a pattern that could only be attributed to feeding.

By dragons. That was the word that no one dared to say but all silently agreed was what they were seeing. Like the others, Dennis' jaw was agape viewing the huge, serpentine creatures hovering above the skies of London and Paris, having razed those cities to the ground with their fire-breathing abilities. Apart of them watched in awe and another part watched in horror. No one could bring themselves to admit that they now lived in a world of not just dragons but dragons that could breathe fire or ice.

And then of course, there was the island.

The island that until a few days ago had managed to remain invisible for the duration of recorded history. It was almost the size of Great Britain and yet had never been seen or charted by sailors, cartographers or satellites for that matter. There had never even the slightest murmur of its existence in old sea shanties alleged in the same breathe as mermaids, sea monsters and the Bermuda Triangle.

Its arrival was so without warning, that only a supernatural device that none in the room was capable of rationalising, could be attributed to its sudden appearance. In an instant, where nothing had been, the island had appeared to scream its arrival to every global positioning device on the planet. Not only revealing a new geographical formation to the world but also the emergence of a possibly new nation among them.

A nation of non-homo sapiens.

“I still can’t believe it,” General Frank Grass shook his head, trying to wrap his brain around the fantastic images he was witnessing. He looked at the others at the table, needing to say something to refute the obvious. Unfortunately, no such reassurance was coming. They looked as bamboozled as he was.

The Secretary of Defence, Chuck Hagel, shifted in his seat before retorting, “Gentlemen, if it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck. That usually means it’s a duck. It looks unbelievable but we’ve receive too much data to indicate it’s not. So at this point, we can either keep denying what we’re seeing or we can start deciding what we’re going to do. The Europeans are evacuating people all across the continent. We have to face the facts that something is going on and it’s not the Chinese, the North Koreans or even the fucking Arabs. This is something and it’s spreading.”

"I’ve known Captain Isaiah Hill for thirty years. He’s a good man and so is his crew,” Admiral Jonathan Greenert of Naval Operations declared. “He would never had put any of this in a report unless he was absolutely certain of what he was seeing. The fleets of ships he accompanied to England contain friendlies who have been assisting the English and French fight these things.”

"So we're expected to believe, that these friendlies who happen to be...” Marine Commander James Amos trailed off unable to complete the sentence before adding, “I can’t even say it.”

“Elves?” Hagel retorted with a hint of a smirk on his lips.

“Elves,” Amos resumed, “living on an island in the middle of the North sea that no one has ever seen, is the origin of these creatures that are now being led by John Malcolm’s successor? David Saeran?" The absurdity of the statement showed in Amos' face.

"Well if the reports are to be believed, these things aren't just coming from the island,” Chairman Martin Dempsey pointed out, “they're emerging from Germany, Belarus and Romania. Look we can bury our heads in the sand and argue that all of this is crazy but the fact of the matter is, that the threat exists and it’s getting worse. We need to determine if we should act because Captain Hill believes this will be hitting us soon."

“Then I recommend we move to DEFCON 2.” Dennis declared immediately and for a flash of an instant, wondered where the words had come from. The thought had appeared so suddenly, he didn’t recall pondering his before. “I say we make a pre-emptive strike before it reaches us. It’s like excising the infected tissue, stop it before it spreads any further. We take out Europe and stop the threat there before it moves to Asia and the rest of the world."

Greenert simply stared. “Defcon 2? Are you serious?” His question was half disbelief and half astonishment at the mere suggestion of such extremes.

“Absolutely,” Dennis stated without reservation, “we nuke them.”

An audible gasp rippled through the group of men who were accustomed to debating this very situation on numerous occasion but often as a last resort. There were protocols and steps to take before even considering the option and even then, no one was terribly eager to use it.

"Dennis have you lost your fucking mind?" Hagel exclaimed. "Are you telling me to go to the President of United States and recommend that we nuke Europe to save our asses? In effect, annihilating our NATO Allies?"

"We are saving the rest of the world," Dennis insisted, oblivious to the shocked expressions on the faces around him. "Their own reports indicate that their soldiers are falling down comatose whenever these armies approach. Those dragons are decimating our aerial fleet and God only knows what those sea monsters are going to do if we sent boats after them. In the meantime, people are dying by the thousands. If they get here, we may not be able to mount a defence any more effectively than the Europeans and we would have lost our best chance to end this decisively. A nuclear strike will settle this before it comes to American soil."

"We are not talking about this," Hagel declared, wondering what the hell had gotten into Dennis. The man was a moderate for Christ sake. Since when did he become Dick Cheney?

When Dennis surveyed the room, the wreckage of the recommendation raining down on him, he noted the lack of support from his colleagues. No one could meet him in the eye and everyone seemed to be taking inordinate interest in their papers, their ties and in some cases, each other. But not him. He let the matter rest at that, suspecting that pressing his views would have him tossed out of the room and taken out of the decision making process entirely.

They're all weak, a voice that didn't sound like his own whispered in his ear. They don't want to face the truth, don’t want to realise how dire the situation really is.

It was true, they didn't. Dennis agreed wholeheartedly with the devil on his shoulder. They were all afraid that they might be facing an enemy they could not cope with. This threat was so far away from the conventional enemies they'd fought all their lives, that taking decisive action was beyond them. They are terrified to face that they’re completely out of their death. Didn’t they realise that decisive action was needed in extreme circumstances.

Clinton was right. They should have reacted to 9/11 with a nuclear deterrent. That would have put paid to all the fuckers in the Middle East bitching about Allah and Christ knows what else. Let them go to their heaven with their forty virgins and an afterlife of song and drink. At least the sons of bitches wouldn't be bombing innocent civilians.

They were weak then and they're weak now. The voice insisted. You need to do something Dennis. You need to do it now. Roll the dice Dennis and this time you won't be doing it alone, we'll be with you. This is your destiny.

Yes. Dennis thought to himself, unaware that he was stroking the ring that had belonged to Walter Green. It was his destiny to save America.

******

BRASOV, ROMANIA

There was only one thing running through Aaron’s mind when the Lear jet landed in Brasov Romania; the Lord of Mordor was reclaiming his kingdom.

Even before they’d landed, while the plane was still flying over the city, there was no doubt that the restoration of Mordor was underway. With columns of black smoke rising into the skyline like funeral pyres being lit in mourning the end of their way of life, the annihilation of men was moving ahead with brutal efficient. Whole sections of Brasov appeared to be under siege, with local authorities doing their best to combat the monstrous army had finally been unleashed from its hatchery beneath Saeran’s ruined fortress.

Descending into the airfield, the destruction appeared near complete with demolished buildings radiating from the centre of the city, chasing fires that were raging through city blocks and consuming the neighbourhoods beyond. Roads were covered with debris, with cars overturned or reduced to burning wreckage. Among the debris and flaming wrecks were the bodies of the slaughtered, left to bloat and rot where they’d fallen. It was like watching a news broadcast of a warzone in Mogadishu or Baghdad.

After Valinor, the last few days had been a stark return to reality of the modern world.

Of course, he should have expected this. Since Saeran had murdered Tory, abducted Eve and unleashed the entire host of the Forbidden Vaults on the world, it was just a matter of time before he reclaimed his former kingdom. After all, modern day Romania was where Mordor had been. Two years ago, he’d even built his fortress on the approximate site of where Barad-ur had been. Aaron had no doubt that when they finally reached Saeran, Barad-ur would be restored in some fashion.

It was ironic that as much as Sauron believed he was no longer making the mistakes that had led to his downfall in the Third Age, he was still driven to recreate his future in the image of his past.

And it was past that for some reason involved Eve. Aaron had originally thought that Saeran had taken Eve as vengeance against him, the way he’d murdered Tory to get back at Bryan. However, the acceleration of the baby’s growth told Aaron that Saeran had a darker purpose in mind although at the moment, he couldn’t imagine what that could be. He suspected Fred had an inkling but the little girl was giving away nothing at present. Aaron wanted to ask her, wanted to shake the truth out of her and demand to know what it was Saeran was planning for Eve but he held back, suspecting her silence may be for his sake more than anything else.

They all knew Fred was being inhabited by something, something very old and powerful, older even than the Galadriel. Legolas believed it could be Manwe or Gandalf, reaching beyond the veil that Saeran had created to trap them in that other realm that had protected the elves for so long. Perhaps working through Fred was the only way that they knew how to penetrate the barrier.

And yet, Aaron knew instinctively that Legolas was wrong. Someone else was in there with Fred, but he was convinced it was someone they’d never met before.

******

With the low drone of the jet’s engines beneath them, Bryan leaned forward over Lori’s shoulder as the plane taxied down the empty airfield. “Get us as close as you can to the terminal,” he ordered gesturing to the grey building next to the aluminium maintenance hangar.

“You got it,” Lori nodded guessing he wanted to limit how much time they spent out in the open before they were on the road again. Judging from the silence she had encountered upon entering Romanian airspace, the same chaos that had pursued them from England to France had also reached the furthermost Balkan state. As before, she heard bursts of civilian chatter on the airwaves but no one asked her to identify herself, her plane or even demand a flight plane. Like the rest of Europe, Brasov was also silent.

“What’s the plan Tyke?” Miranda asked as she paused at the doorway leading into the cockpit.

Giving her a look at the Yorkie nickname she’d bestowed on him, Bryan replied, “we need to get across the airfield without every bastard seeing us. The other lot is still in France, they couldn’t have gotten here that quickly. So it’s got to be those bloody Uruk-hai he had breeding under his fortress. Aaron thinks he woke them for this.”

Bryan wondered what kind of defences Brasov would have against the Uruks and suspected it wouldn't be much. Romania wasn't the US, where every supermarket sold guns with non-existent waiting periods. The people of Romania would not be as armed as the Uruks undoubtedly would be. It would be a slaughter.

Miranda sucked in her breath, hating to admit that he was probably right. She remembered Irina Sadko’s twisted plan, how she’d continued the work in Germany. She had ensured that there would be an army waiting for him when Saeran returned to the world.

Thank Christ the psychotic bitch was dead.

“How many of them does he have?” Lori inquired as she veered the nose of the plane away from the flags that indicated landing zones and continued her approach towards the terminal building.

Miranda exchanged a glance with Bryan before answering quietly, “If it’s the same as Germany, thousands.”

That made the pilot pause long enough to glance over her shoulder at Miranda, her face revealing her shock. “Thousands?”

“Yeah, thousands,” Bryan admitted begrudgingly. “The fucker’s been playing this Armageddon for Christ knows how long. Maybe even when John Malcom was running the show.” Bryan said bitterly. It was ironic that Bryan never had any concept of the man he was tracking for all those years. David Saeran and Black Serpent had been his obsession and only until Fred entered his life did he realise just how dangerous the man really was. “We just never knew it.”

******

The plane finally came to a stop outside the terminal, an aging, near-dilapidated building that was constructed during communist days when aesthetics had been sacrificed for functionality. Despite protests from the others, in particular Aaron, Bryan, Miranda and Legolas disembarked first. Bryan wanted everyone else to remain on the place in case they were ambushed by Uruks and needed to make a hasty departure. Although it was not possible to land the Lear in the Carpathian Mountains where Saeran's fortress was located, they could still leave the immediate area if the situation demanded it.

The terminal was located on the outskirts of Brasov, which itself was not really a large city and the surrounding area was an industrial zone of similarly dour buildings that hadn't looked occupied in some time. Only the terminal appeared to have been trafficked lately which concerned Bryan because they needed a vehicle to get to Saeran.

Legolas had gone ahead to scout the area because he had the ability to sense danger that Bryan and Miranda, with all their training did not possess. Waiting to him against the sheltered wall of the terminal and the maintenance, they kept the plane with sight while Legolas circled the building for a preliminary sweep. Even though the heart of Brasov was some distance away, the air was filled with sound of the violence taking place there. The staccato rhythm of gunfire disrupted the rustle of breeze in short abrupt bursts, followed by screaming and explosions.

“I saw no one," Legolas reported when he returned to them. "However, I can smell their foul stench," his nose wrinkling in contempt as he spoke. "They are less than a league away from here and are moving quickly. We should not linger here long.”

Bryan had no idea what a ‘league’ was but had expected as much. "Saeran's knows we'll be coming after him and we're not stupid enough to try and get through his beastie army." He said grimly.

"I don't much like our chances of finding a car," Miranda added, sweeping her gaze across the near empty landscape. "I doubt that there's that many about now. Even if there had been, I'd wager they got nicked by people trying to do a runner from those Uruks."

“Perhaps if we instruct Lori to take the children somewhere safe, we could proceed on foot, until we find a faster way to reach him,” Legolas suggested meeting Miranda’s gaze as he spoke. “At least they won’t be in danger from the Uruk-hai.”

"Absolutely not," Miranda declared, refusing to entertain the notion in any shape or form. She'd already seen what had happened to Jason when they'd left the children. She was not risking them or anyone who was trying to protect them. “We’ve already lost Jason and Eric’s…” her voice faltered. “He’s not in good shape.”

Since they’d found each other, Miranda couldn’t help but be drawn to Eric Rowan the way she’d never connected with her sister or any of her family. Among them, she’d always felt out of place and even though she still had difficulty believing this whole business of reincarnation, she couldn’t deny that Eric did feel like her brother. In Valinor, they had become friends and then family. It broke her heart to see his pain and know that there was nothing she could do to help. It made her want to smash something.

Bryan reached for her arm and squeezed, offering his sympathy as much as he was capable at the moment but they had more important things to deal with. “We don’t have the time to make it there on foot,” he answered Legolas. “Those Uruks will be running us down every step of the way. Besides, I think we all know that it doesn't matter if we leave the kids behind or not. Sam, Pip and Fred are not children to Saeran, they're hobbits and worse yet, they’re the hobbits who beat him the last time. Even if he gets us, he’ll still come after them for revenge.”

To that, Legolas could not disagree. Sauron's hatred of the hobbits was deep. The dark lord could not forget that his humiliating defeat in the Third Age was bound to the actions of a race in Middle Earth he had deemed insignificant.

"You are right Bryan," he nodded. "Then what course shall we take?"

"Tell the others to get ready to move," Bryan said after a moment. "We may have to go into town to find a way to reach him. In the meantime, I want to see what's in that hangar. There might be a maintenance truck or something, it’s an airfield right?"

Miranda did not appear optimistic at the idea but knew they had little choice in the matter. They were running out of time. With Fred’s announcement that the rings were back in play and a nuclear holocaust might Saeran’s end game, they simply had to reach him.

"I'll go get the others," she volunteered, leaving his question unanswered. Pushing herself away from the wall, she rounded the corner in a second, her gun leading the way as she made a beeline for the plane.

“Right let’s do this,” Bryan declared and Legolas offered him a nod of acknowledgement before the elf sprinted across the patch of short grass between the terminal and hangar to reach the smaller door next to the main hangar entrance. Bryan followed him closely, eyes darting about to ensure that the Uruk’s hadn’t shown yet.

Legolas pulled open the door and stepped into the darkness, his nose curling in disgust at the strong stench of chemicals the Edain seemed to revere. He could see shapes but nothing resembling the vehicles that Bryan believed they needed so desperately. "I do not see anything..." he started to say when light flooded the large, expansive room.

Bryan had had searched the space along the doorway inside the hangar a second after Legolas had entered it. It hadn’t taken him long to locate a light switch that was probably old thirty years ago and fumbled to flick it on as it was rusted. The switch gave way with slight metallic wince before the powerful lights illuminated the inside of the building.

While there was no cars or trucks present as he'd hoped, inside the aluminium construction with its mesh superstructure, its ramps, machinery, crates, drums (presumably filled with fuel) and other equipment was something that made that absence tolerable. It sat in the middle of the hangar and brought a smile to his lips when he took in the sight of it.

“What is it?” Legolas asked.

“Just what we need,” Bryan said with a sneer.

********

Aaron had been slightly incensed when Bryan told him to stay inside the vehicle, aware that the former spy did not think him capable of defending himself or covering his back in a firefight. Truth be told; Aaron was too much a doctor to ever be comfortable with pulling the trigger of a gun the way Bryan and Miranda did. He could hold his own in his fight mostly because Bryan, Eve and Legolas had taken pains to teach him how but he was never going to be the warrior king that Aragorn had been.

Still, Eve was his wife and he was prepared to do whatever it took to get her and their baby back alive. Even kill.

Thus when Miranda came to get them, Aaron was more than ready to move. They'd gathered all the weapons they'd collected on route, taking as much as they could carry before abandoning the plane and following her out into airfield. As they emerged, the distant rumble of gunfire and artillery renewed his sense of foreboding and Aaron remembered what Tirion had looked like before they left Valinor. Before the end, Saeran, no Sauron, they had to stop thinking he was anyone else, was going to see the world burn.

"Did we find a car?" Aaron looked up from his thoughts when he heard Frank ask Miranda the question. Frank was carrying Pip in his arms, while Sam and Fred stayed close together as they always did, trailing behind the archaeologist and his wife.

"Not yet but Bryan and Legolas are checking the hangar but I'm not holding out much hope." There was a decided lack of encouragement in her tone.

"I'm not surprised," Frank sighed, "with what we saw over the city, any car that isn't wrecked is probably on its way out of town with people trying to escape those damn Uruks."

"Any chance we can make it to Searan in the Lear?" Aaron asked, directing the question at Lori who was walking behind him next to Eric. Now that they were so close to Eve, Aaron didn't want to be held up any longer than necessary.

"I can try," the pilot replied but the doubt in her expression was clear. Lori glanced over her shoulder at the jet in contemplation, trying to determine if there any real chance of making the trip there. After a moment, she answered, "It won't be easy though. We'd have to be able to navigate through those mountains and then find a track or road long enough or clear enough for me to put down without crashing. “It will be a risky gamble."

"Which means the odds are good we'll bloody crash," Eric declared pointedly, breaking his self-imposed silence for the first time since they'd left England. Until now, everyone had respected his silence, aware that he was still grieving and wanted to give him some scant time to mourn his best friend in peace. He deserved longer but like Bryan, they didn't have time to spare.

Lori shot him a look of sharp annoyance. "I wouldn't put it quite that way," she returned although it was not all that far from the truth.

"But pretty close to it I reckon," Eric snorted, not about to stand on diplomacy. "If we don't crash, the dragons will take us out anyway."

"Hey!" Frank declared, noting the anxious faces on his sons. They didn't need to be any more frightened than they already were. As it was Frank wasn't happy that the children were still with them. He'd prefer them away somewhere safe but the circumstances had deemed otherwise. He didn't want them to feel worse by Eric's stark reminder of the odds they were facing.

"The dragons are still in France aren't they?" Lori asked in an effort to diffuse the situation. As annoyed as she was with Eric, she understood his demeanour. Like him, she'd lost friends over the skies of Exeter and the anger and frustration of that loss was something with which she could relate.

"Not for long," Eric returned bitterly. "All these attacks, the sudden communications black out, it’s all for a purpose. Trust me, this long in the broadcast news game and I know what it looks like when somebody's setting the stage for a show. The way he's been disrupting satellite transmissions so the folks at home gets bits and pieces of the picture, showing just enough to make sure everyone's good and frightened but not enough to know what's really going on, he's building up to the grand finale."

"This is about fear," Aaron declared with a sudden flash of insight. "It’s not the people in Europe he's trying to scare shitless but the ones the countries controlling nukes. America, Russia and China. He's letting them see what's happening, showing them that the Nazguls' Black Breath is defeating our armies and the dragons are decimating our air capability. That's where the rings are, the ones from two years ago. All he has to do is create enough fear and panic and the brass in all those countries will start considering a nuclear solution. All he has to do is get one person to wear a ring who can press the button and he'll annihilate the human race without firing a shot."

"Jesus," Lori gasped, the enormity of it settling into her brain. It was a good plan because people were just that paranoid when they were afraid.

"How long do we have you think?" Frank asked. "Days?"

Fred spoke for the first time. "Hours."

Suddenly Miranda cried out. "Get down!"

Her words had no sooner left her lips when a burst of gunfire exploded around them, forcing the group to get down low immediately. Aaron looked up long enough to see a cadre of Uruk-hai taking position at the far end of the terminal, setting up to gun them down. Even though the creatures were relics of the Third Age, at this moment, they were very much a modern fighting force. All of them were armed with machine guns and wearing body armour.

Miranda wasted no time. They were out in the open and their nearest cover was the hangar. Reaching into her kit, she thanked Bryan Miller for the paranoid, militant bastard that he was and pulled the pin on the F1 grenade.

"When I throw this, RUN!" That was all the warning she gave before she bowled her best cricket delivery and sent the grenade flying through the air.

It landed a few feet shy of the target but that much Miranda was grateful for. She knew she'd never actually hit them but the aim of the exercise was to ensure that the explosion gave them enough of an opening to reach the safety of the hangar. As expected, the lobbing of the grenade had the Uruks retreating before it actually hit.

"Go! Go! Go! Get the kids!" She shouted when the grenade detonated, sending a ball of flame in all directions, the concussive forces flattening anything and anyone nearby.

Frank didn't have to be told twice. When it came to such matters, he obeyed his wife without question. This was what Miranda trained to do and she'd proved on occasions how capable she was at it. He already had Pip in his arms and didn't have to look behind him to see Eric bend over to sweep Sam off the ground and carry him towards the hangar. Aaron had done the same to Fred, slinging his gun over his shoulder and ferrying the little girl away from the danger behind them.

Only Lori lingered behind, watching Miranda retreating along with him. The Uruks were disorientated but they were recovering quickly. Giving them no opportunity to draw breath, she let rip a hail of bullets in their direction, forcing them to retreat further behind the terminal building. She had no illusions that they were coming back real soon and felt Miranda's hand grip her arm and pulled her towards the hangar.

They were almost to it when the other contingent of Uruks appeared from the other side of the terminal. They'd circled the building and outflanked them. Lori and Miranda raised their M-16s to fire when an arrow flew past them and struck the nearest beast in the throat, followed by another arrow, giving the second approaching creature no chance to react.

"Move your arses!" Bryan bellowed, making Lori jump just before he started blasting, adding his gunfire to Legolas' superb marksmanship.

The two women raced through the door like sprinters racing for the finish line. The urgency of the situation kept them from taking offense at his hard tone. Once they were through, Bryan turned his attention to Legolas who was still firing arrows at the Uruks. Bryan himself was laying down suppressing fire, keeping them back until his brother’s wife and their pilot were safely inside.

"You too!" He ordered the archer, grabbing Legolas’ arm and gesturing him to go inside. Legolas nodded and Bryan covered his retreat by emptying an entire clip at the Uruks. He had put down a number of them but they were still coming. Bryan could see them emerging from both ends of the terminal building. Withdrawing, he started to reach for the door to shut it as he entered the hangar when the Uruks started firing again.

The bullet caught him on the side.

White hot lead tore straight through his jacket and penetrated his flesh. He wasn’t exactly sure where he was hit but the force of it was enough to knock the wind out of him. The pain was exquisite and bloody well made his knees buckled. He forced himself to regain his footing so the others wouldn’t see what had happened. He’d been shot before and knew this was no minor injury but there were still bullets flying past him and Bryan had presence of mind to squeeze off a few more rounds before he slammed the door shut behind him.

Fuck, Bryan cursed as he checked quickly the wound quickly before he re-joined the others. Pulling his jacket over the darkening stain on his shirt, Bryan was grateful that he liked wearing darker colours as it hid the extent of the damage he'd sustained. As expected, the others were preoccupied with their find in the hangar.

"Can you fly it?" Bryan heard Eric asking Lori about the Mil Mi-17 ‘Hip’ Soviet helicopter that he and Legolas had found earlier.

“We don’t have much of a choice,” Bryan announced himself to the others, ensuring he projected no sign of injury, even if he was moving a little more gingerly than usual. “That door isn’t going to hold them for any more than a few minutes. I had a chance to look it over, she’s got a half a tank of fuel but that’s plenty to get to us to Saeran.”

Lori had not answered, determined to see for herself if the craft was safe to fly. Seated in the cockpit, she went through the motions of bringing the chopper to life, until the propeller above the craft started to turn slowly.

“If it’s in a maintenance hangar, doesn’t that mean that there’s something wrong with it?” Frank pointed out the obvious.

“Even if there is something wrong with it, we don’t have a choice. We’re cut off from the plane and it won’t be long before those Uruks come through the door. We have to leave,” Aaron said firmly. “And we have leave now.”

Almost on cute, the gun fire resumed with bullets tearing through the thin metal walls of the hangar. One of them caught Eric on the thigh and he went down cursing, clutching his wounded leg.

“ERIC!” Miranda cried out in horror.

“I’m alright, I’m alright!” Eric declared hastily as he stood up painfully, blood running down the leg of his jeans. “It’s just a flesh wound! Get on the chopper!” He said struggling to his feet.

“You heard him!” Bryan added his voice to the mix before turning to Legolas. He couldn’t move fast enough and they needed speed more than anything else. The bullets were coming faster and faster through the walls, they were smashing glass, slamming against machinery. If they didn’t get killed by the bullets they’d be cut to ribbons by the ricochet. “Legolas, we need to get those doors open! You need to push that button there!” He pointed to the angry red button protruding from the panel next to the door.

“It will be done,” Legolas retorted and moved quickly towards the device as Bryan his head down, wincing because the compression of his ribs was only aggravating the gunshot would he suffered as he advanced upon the chopper.

The shooting caused Lori to forgo the usual pre-flight check as she flicked on switches and knobs on the central console. As the craft powered up, the main and rudder rotors began to pick up speed until the whump whump whump sound felt like a whirlwind was blowing inside the walls of the warehouse.

When Bryan reached the passenger bay of the chopper, he saw Aaron helping Eric on board while Frank and Miranda were securing the children. Bryan caught sight of Fred’s worry gaze upon him and he knew then that she was staring at him like the frightened child she was, not the entity that was currently sharing her body. The little girl however remained silent as Miranda secured her and Sam to the seats while Frank did the same for little Pip.

It only took a momentary glance in Bryan’s direction for Aaron to catch a glimpse of what the man was concealing.

“What the hell....!" Aaron exclaimed as he noted the blood on the Bryan’s hand, the hand that was trying not to clutch his sides too overtly to give himself away.

"What?" Frank shot Aaron a look and followed the doctor’s aghast expression to his brother. “What’s wrong?”

Bryan cursed again at being discovered and retorted abruptly, “It’s nothing,” he lied and then added to pacify Aaron who would not accept that as any kind of explanation. “We’ll deal with it on route! Just tell her to get going.”

It wasn’t nothing and Aaron knew it but he could not protest or argue at the moment because another round of gunfire had resumed, this one fiercer than the first barrage. The Uruks were going to keep shooting until they hit something and it was a minor miracle that not more of them were hurt. He swore under his breath, giving Bryan a frown that told the man that this discussion was by no means over and poked his head through the cockpit entrance to do as Bryan ordered.

"We got to go!" He declared and then realised that she probably guessed that for herself.

“No shit!” Lori bit back, not looking at him as she continued what she was doing. “What the hell do you think I'm doing up here.” She shouted over the sound of gunfire and the whirr of the chopper blades.

A split second later, the floor beneath him heaved and Aaron lost his balance slightly, needing to grip a wall to steady himself as Lori lifted the chopper of the ground, its landing lifts beginning to hover off the hangar floor. Pushing the throttle forward, her feet moved in tandem with her hands as she worked the chopper pedals.

"Go sit down!" She ordered him as the helicopter began to move forward.

Aaron did not argue and returned in time to see Legolas running back towards them, trying to dodge gunfire after activating the main doors so the chopper could leave the hangar. Almost on reflex, he grabbed his gun and started shooting in the direction of the enemy fire. He couldn’t see any of them and each new bullet hole created a stream of light through the shadowy insides of the building. Very soon, light beams were crisscrossing each other all over the place. Aaron’s returning fire gave the Uruks reason to pause momentarily, allowing Legolas jumped into the bay. The elf caught Frank’s outstretched hand before he was hauled to safety. Once he was inside, Aaron slid the door of the chopper shut and shielded them to a degree from any more gunfire.

“We’re in!” He shouted at Lori. “Let’s go!”

Lori was already flying the chopper towards the open door when three Uruks appeared in front of her. Probably in an attempt to stop them from taking but she was not about to let ugly SOBs get in her way now that they were so close to escape. Pushing the throttle to full, the chopper surged forward, the danger of its spinning rotors cutting them to pieces forced the Uruks out of the way and in a second, the chopper was out in the open. Brasov was 30 kilometres away from the location of Saeran’s former fortress and by chopper it would take less than twenty minutes of flight time to reach it. She hoped that whatever reason that had forced the craft to be in that hangar, could remain at bay for the duration of their trip.

Once in open air, Lori’s first priority was to get them away from the Uruk and gunfire. They were heading towards the sky at a steep 45 degree angle and while the chopper was nothing like her Gripen fighter, Lori had the confidence of an Air Force pilot who didn’t think there wasn't any damn thing with wings she couldn't fly.

Everyone held on tight as the craft made its steep ascent and Aaron was glad the kids were strapped in because they were clearly frightened if their expressions were anything to go by. Even Fred was troubled though Aaron wondered if it was because of the bumpy ride or was it because she knew Bryan was hurt. The Uruks made a last ditch effort to bring them down as they continued to fire at the departing craft. Fortunately Lori was a combat pilot accustomed to flying under fire and they left the bastard behind without further injury to anyone else in their company.

However the damage was done.

Aaron turned his attention to Bryan who was still resting against the wall that separated the passenger bay from the rest of the chopper. Miranda was already tending to Eric’s wound which the Australian had called right when he claimed it was merely superficial. It looked like the bullet had merely grazed his leg. In any case, Miranda was more than adept at attending him as she retrieved Aaron’s medical bag and was presently riffling through its contents to find dressing and some antiseptic swabs to clean the wound.

Legolas was already checking on Bryan when Aaron reached him along with Frank. Aaron saw Legolas lifting Bryan’s jacket to examine the wound and the MI6 agent promptly brushed the elf’s hand away, much to Legolas chagrin.

“Let him help you git!” Frank insisted, rolling his eyes in exasperation at his brother’s stubbornness.

“I’m fine,” Bryan insisted with irritation and in completely in character with his gruff since Bryan tended to believe that he was indestructible while everyone else was fragile and needed delicate handling.

“You’re not fine!” Frank barked back, “you’re hurt.”

Legolas turned and left the brothers to their debate while he gestured at Aaron for a quiet word, as quiet as could be had under the circumstances.

"Aaron, his injury is grave,” Legolas spoke with clear distress. “He needs healing now. He will not last long otherwise.”

This Aaron had already guessed from the amount of blood he was seeing coming out of the wound. The slick shimmer of damp on Bryan’s shirt told Aaron just how much he was bleeding even without him taking a closer look at the man’s wound.

“I’ll do what I can to help him,” Aaron replied quietly in Legolas’ ear, “but you know as well as I do, that he will not stand down. Even if we could find a place to leave him, he would not agree to it and I don’t think we have the right to make him stay behind. Sauron murdered Tory. Bryan deserves the right to be there when we kill the son of a bitch.”

"Even if it costs him his life?" Legolas retorted sharply, not at all happy by that reasoning. He had lost too many loved ones in his long life and had no wish to add Bryan Miller to that list.

There was a frustrated growl behind them before Bryan hollered at them, “I can bloody here the both of you. There’s no whispering inside a chopper you gits.”

“Bryan you have been hurt gravely,” Legolas implored. “You need to heal. You cannot fight in your condition.”

“Aaron tell him,” Frank insisted. “Tell him he need to sit this one out.”

Aaron met Bryan’s gaze and for a moment, Aaron almost said the words that Frank wanted him to speak but then he remembered Tory, lying there under the rain, her perfect English rose skin turning grey with death, the sorrow in Bryan’s face when they’d found her. At least Aaron had the comfort of knowing that Eve was still alive. If Saeran had murdered her, would Aaron have been able to stand down? How could he expect Bryan to do the same when he wouldn’t be able to himself?

“I need my bag,” Aaron said abruptly, reaching for it now that Miranda was gotten what she needed and came up alongside of Bryan. “I’ve got some Celox, that’s a chemical haemostat that will slow down the bleeding, like a clotting agent.” As Aaron retrieved the vial and the syringe that would administer it, he thought of all the things he had to do. Slow the clotting, seal the wound, put enough pressure on it and maybe, maybe Bryan could stay alive long enough because they needed him.

“See,” Bryan said looking of Aaron’s shoulder to Legolas and Frank, “I’ve got the best doctor about patching me up. I swear once we’ve sent that bastard to hell for the last time, I’ll take myself to the hospital, I’ll even be nice to the nurses.”

Frank let out another frustrated groan while Legolas said nothing.

Bryan lifted his eyes to Aaron, “Thanks Doc.” He said quietly.

“Don’t make me regret this,” Aaron retorted as he administered the Celox and hoped that it would be enough.

TO BE CONTINUED