Language warning

The pain eased with a solid thump and Paddy slid down the wall to his knees, air rushing his lungs in time with the beat of his heart. His arms trembled as he fought to catch his breath, and he didn't seem to have the strength to lift his head — not yet. Friedrich lay motionless on the ground beneath a chair.

Swallowing hard against the ache in his throat, Paddy shakily raised his head, almost afraid to find out who had come to his rescue.

"You're alive!" he choked, as Manu extended a hand to help him up. Laughing with relief, and half crying from shock, Paddy took it and wobbled to his feet. "How did —? I don't —" He couldn't find the words, but she took no notice of his amazement. She was staring at something in her palm.

A bullet, he realised, with a hint of unease. There was a gun on the desk.

"I shouldn't be," she told him flatly. "I shouldn't be alive."

Paddy laughed, and stumbled into the wall. His head spun with relief. The idea of someone being shocked — unhappy, even — that they were alive was absurd! Only moments ago he had thought her dead, himself soon to join her, and the mission an utter failure. If they were both alive, they still had a chance. Suddenly his laughter evaporated.

"So the cunt missed?"

"He didn't miss."

Horror shuddered down Paddy's spine.

"This bullet —" her fingers trembled — "this bullet hit my brain."

He stared at her for a moment. The words refused to make sense.

"That —" His voice cracked. He couldn't believe her. "You — you must be confused, that isn't — it's not possible."

"I know what I felt," she snapped, and her eyes shone bright with emotion.

Paddy knew she wasn't one to imagine injuries due to fear or inexperience — not anymore — but how could she expect him to believe — believe what she was saying?

"I died, and I'm still here." Her voice trembled.

A shout rang outside — still a fair distance away, but calling for Friedrich.

Paddy forced himself to hold her gaze. The hourglass had tipped; time was running out of their hands. Could he trust her? Whatever he decided, he had to accept it was the truth with his whole heart. She didn't look insane.

"I believe you." He gripped her shoulder, uniform soft beneath his calloused fingers, and with the other hand scooped her bracelet from the desk. "Put it back on and don't take it off again — that's an order." Manu nodded without speaking, wiping a hand across her nose.

Within seconds of replacing the band, Manurau Reeves was replaced by fair-haired, pale-skinned, Sofia Jürgen.

"Now quick — the Germans won't be long, and we have to find their plans."

They worked in a subdued silence, hands fumbling and trembling amongst the papers, seconds stretching long as hours as the cries for Friedrich died into the distance and came back again.

"I have it," Sofia hissed suddenly in Deutsch. Footsteps and banging doors had begin to accompany the calls. "It's —"

"Don't tell me." Paddy snatched the paper from her hand. "We don't have time to waste. Go."

"What?"  She lunged for the paper, but Paddy was quicker. He yanked it out of her reach.

"Go!"

"Why?" Her eyes flicked from his face to the paper to his face again, and then she seemed to realise what she had said. "No!  No — Paddy, they'll kill you."

He swallowed, hard, against his bruised throat.

"It's both of us, or one of us. Get out of here, get back to the Allied lines. I'll radio the plans ahead of you."

"No!"  She lunged at him again, and he knocked her hand aside with a well-placed blow, dancing out of the way with the paper held above his head in a shaking hand. "What will I tell Aibreann? No." Her face twisted. "I — I just got shot in the head and survived, you  go!" She shoved him.

Smiling — trying to reassure her — Paddy gently shook his head.

"No can do, kid. You think the Axis are the only ones with plans? The Allies need a power like yours — and you don't know your own limitations. One more shot could kill you."

Manu lunged suddenly, barely before the words had left his lips, and Paddy stumbled back in alarm. For a second he forgot this was his friend, forgot that he knew her; she was attacking him and his only thought was of survival. Before he could think he had kicked the chair into her stomach, kicked it hard, and she crumpled to her knees with a strangled gasp.

Paddy stood shocked and still, trembling with adrenaline, fighting against the ache in his throat.

"You've already died, for goodness' sake," he snapped, desperation leaking into his voice. "Don't make me see that — don't make me watch that again. Damn it, girl, GO!"

Torchlight shone through a window, and he ducked with his heart in his throat. Would he have to pull rank? Would she listen, even if he did?

"Stubborn arse," Sofia — Manu — choked out, eyes gleaming in the dark. "I'll be back, and you bloody well believe it."

"Your New Zealand is showing," he warned her. It should have been a joke, but he was dead serious. "Go. Give my love to Aibreann."

Her fists clenched — defiance — and he felt sick to his stomach, but she rose to her feet.

"I'll buy you some time." She gripped his hand, and he squeezed back.

That was the only goodbye they had.

Manurau Reeves, Sofia Jürgen, slipped out into the dark, and Patrick O'Neill scooted into the radio-operator's chair, precious paper clutched tightly in his trembling fingers. She would give him as much time as possible to contact the Allies; maybe even — but no, he couldn't let himself hope that there would be time to escape. Manu  would get away. Manu, who could help with bigger plans than he ever could; Manu, who was still only young. That's what mattered.

THE END