Tracking

Keeping close to the wall, staying as quiet as possible, the Major walked along the corridor.

This place was incredible, he thought. Why hadn't they known about these tunnels? Another balls-up by the clowns he'd been working with; hadn't they checked the place out properly?

Bloody amateurs.

Speaking of amateurs, he was pretty sure he could hear sounds from up ahead. He grinned to himself, thinking how easy it was going to be - and he'd enjoy getting rid of that pain in the arse Cotter, not to mention Hewson, who'd turned out to be a waste of space too.

The sounds were getting louder. Not far now. He thought he heard a shushing noise: did that mean they'd heard him too? Not that it mattered - with the guns in his hand, he didn't really need surprise on his side.

Up ahead, the corridor forked. Just round that corner to the right, he thought. Yes, he was sure of it. By the time he arrived at it, there was no longer any noise, but he was certain they weren't far away.

At the turn in the corridor, he paused, and counted mentally: one...two...three...

He jumped, and facing down the corridor with both guns raised, shouted "stop!"

The surprise was all his though, when he realised it wasn't his two former prisoners, but Molly and the rest of the Sisterhood.

And they didn't stop.

They charged.



Part Three begins here.