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As the gunshot rang out, Spectre was sprinting. He charged through the entry door of the barracks with his AK-47 held high and ready. Doors flashed by as Spectre searched for the room marked C-7. It was not tactically smart, but Spectre had given up on tactics under the urgency of the situation. He had to get to Decker.
Spectre saw an open closet to his left as he ran down the hall. It was the only door open. As he neared it, Spectre peeked in with his rifle, but only saw bodies lying on the floor. He heard a voice coming down the dark hallway and saw a sliver of light coming from the corner of the door. Spectre continued running.
Reaching the door, he noticed it was marked C-7 and took a deep breath. He checked the rifle and readied it as he stepped back. He didn’t have the luxury of waiting for any intel. If there were a chance to save Decker, he had to take it. And if she was already dead, then what happened next wouldn’t matter much anyway. He would at least die on his feet.
Spectre kicked in the door using the heel of his foot and lunged forward. The wood of the doorframe splintered as Spectre burst into the room. Time seemed to stand still as he continued moving forward with his rifle up and assessing the threat.
He immediately saw three men in front of him. His eyes fixed on the man farthest away. He had a knife to the throat of someone in an orange jumpsuit. Decker! Spectre fired two rounds, hitting the man in the throat and bridge of his nose before he reoriented to the threat nearest him.
He shot that man twice. The first round missed while the second hit the man in the chest. As Spectre continued moving forward, he raised the rifle butt to strike the cameraman in the face, but felt a searing pain in the back of his right leg. As he fell forward, he turned to see a man with a raised handgun being tackled by another man in orange.
Pushing through the pain, Spectre turned to face the cameraman who had drawn his knife. The man charged Spectre as Spectre raised the AK-47 to block the attack. He rotated the rifle and jabbed the man in the throat with the muzzle of the gun before stepping back and firing three rounds.
With the cameraman down, Spectre turned to see the fourth man pushing the limp body of the man in the orange jumpsuit off him and standing with a bloody knife. Spectre took aim, firing three rounds that hit the man center of mass. The man stumbled forward and fell to the ground, dropping the knife.
Spectre swept the room for additional threats. He moved the rifle in sync with his head as he quickly scanned every corner of the room and even above him. As he turned back to see Decker, his heart dropped. She was lying face down on the carpet with her attacker’s body off to the side. There was blood near her neck.
Dropping the AK-47, Spectre tried to run to her. The pain in his leg caught up with him, causing him to limp as he knocked over camera equipment to get to her. Spectre fell to his knees as he reached her.
Spectre was in a panic as he saw her not moving on the floor. He gently rolled her over to try to render first aid, still praying that there was hope. As he rolled her onto her back, there was blood on her neck and shirt.
As Spectre leaned down to check for an airway, Decker moaned softly. Her airway was still good, but the bleeding worried Spectre. He pulled off his tattered t-shirt and used it to apply direct pressure to her neck. Decker’s eyes fluttered open as she saw Spectre hovering over her.
“Am I dead?” she asked softly.
“Just relax, sweetie. You’ll be fine,” Spectre replied nervously. He rubbed her forehead with his right hand as he used his left to keep pressure on her neck.
“You could uncuff me, you know,” Decker said weakly with a forced smile. “I’ll be fine.”
“Shhh. Just relax. We’re going to get you help,” Spectre replied, stroking her hair. “It’s going to be ok.”
“You don’t have to do that, Cal,” Decker said. “We need to get out of here.”
“Try not to talk too much,” Spectre said. “We’re going to get you help.”
“It’s just a cut, Cal, I’m fine,” Decker said. “He just nicked me.”
Spectre cautiously removed the shirt. Decker’s neck was covered with dried blood, but she was no longer bleeding. His previously white shirt was stained, but not soaked in blood. Spectre breathed a sigh of relief as he fell back onto his side.
“Oh, thank God!” he said.
“The handcuffs?” Decker said.
“Oh,” Spectre said as he crawled to his feet. He limped toward the nearest guard and searched for a set of handcuff keys.
“Cal! You’re bleeding!” Decker cried as Spectre stood with his back to her.
“Huh?” Spectre said as he found the handcuff key and started to limp back.
“Your leg! It’s soaked in blood!” Decker said.
Spectre helped Decker roll over and uncuffed her. The gagged airman walked up and turned around for Spectre to do the same for him.
As Spectre obliged, Decker went to work on Spectre’s wound. “You’ve been shot!”
“It’s just a flesh wound,” Spectre said as he uncuffed the airman.
Decker studied the wound. “It looks like it just grazed your hamstring, but we should probably get the wound cleaned.”
“Thanks,” the man said as he turned around to face Spectre. “I’m Gary Graves.”
Ignoring Graves, Spectre turned and pulled Decker to her feet away from his leg wound. He pulled her in close and kissed her passionately.
“I don’t mean to interrupt,” Graves said. “But there’s a bomb that’s going to go off on this island soon and I’d like to be somewhere else if that’s ok.”
“Bye,” Spectre said flatly before trying to return to his kiss with Decker
“You don’t understand,” Graves said. “We’re all going to die if we don’t get off this island.”
“What?” Spectre snapped impatiently.
“They have a suitcase nuke. I saw it. We have to get off the island!”
“Wait, what else did you see? What about the President?” Decker asked as she turned away from Spectre.
“Michelle,” Spectre said as he grabbed her arm gently. “No. It’s just you and me now.”
“She’s in the old wildlife refuge building with the others,” Graves said.
“Was she still alive?” Decker asked.
Graves nodded. “They were filming a broadcast when they took me away, but they said they are going to put her on trial tomorrow. I watched them behead the guy in the suit. I think they’re going to kill her.”
“We have to save her!” Decker said.
“Michelle... Michelle, no,” Spectre said as he pulled her back to him. “No, we don’t.”
Decker pulled her arm away as she turned to face Spectre.
“Cal, I love you, but—”
“No ‘but’ anything, Michelle,” Spectre replied. “I love you. You love me. We almost lost each other and I’m not letting you go again. Let’s take Graves here and figure out a way out of here. I’ve got a pilot with a radio in a safe area. Help is on the way. Let the suits worry about the President.”
“I love you, but she’s the President of the United States, Cal,” Decker pleaded. “I can’t let them kill her.”
Spectre let out a labored sigh as he once again saw the resolve and determination in Decker’s eyes.
“I was afraid you were going to say that,” he said dejectedly.
“You know it’s the right thing to do, Cal,” Decker replied. “And you know who will take over if she dies.”
“Fine,” Spectre relented. “But this time I’m coming with you. And let’s find something a little less conspicuous for you to wear than orange.”
“And water,” Decker said. “I’m so thirsty right now.”
“And a shirt for you,” Decker added as she put her hand on Spectre’s bare chest. “This is for me only.”