Sam opened his eyes, baffled that the bullets had missed. Despite the anarchy, his ears were tuned perfectly, and he failed to hear the errant shots hit the van behind him. Before he could register his own survival, the black van that had illuminated the car park sped towards the entrance and despite the guilt of leaving Alan at the mercy of Sykes, Sam’s promise to Alex drew him to her like a magnet. With Sykes stepping coldly over Alan’s limp body and approaching the dying Sinclair, Sam rushed to the passenger door and jumped in.

‘Reverse.’ Sam commanded, and Alex shifted the gear stick and slammed her foot on the pedal. As they distanced themselves from the chaos, Sam watched helplessly as Sykes stood over Sinclair, casually straightened his arm so the gun was pointed at the agent’s head.

The black van turned sharply out of the car park, the driver lining the vehicle up with theirs, and it sped towards them.

Just before it collided with them, Sam saw a flash of light from Sykes’s gun.

Another crack echoed. The gunshot the exclamation point on Sinclair’s mortality.

The distant sound of sirens filled the air, but Sam knew they would be too late. Alex was angrily groaning as she tried to speed up. The black van’s headlights growing bigger as their impending crash became a reality.

‘Hold on to something,’ Sam yelled.

Then everything shook.

Blasted front on by the van, Alex tried her best to keep control of the wheel, and as she wrenched it upon impact, the van spun to the side, the back wheel clipping the curb and sending it sprawling. Rattled among the interior and broken glass, Sam felt the world spin, his skull colliding with the dashboard.

Alex let out a scream of pain.

Things went blurry.

After a few rolls, the van eventually slowed, tipping slightly before resting on its roof. With no seat belt holding him in place, Sam opened his eyes, lying front down inside the roof, shards of glass embedded in his forearm. He could taste the blood dripping from his lip, and his left wrist was throbbing in pain.

Strapped to the seat, and hanging upside down, Alex was unconscious, a trickle of blood dripping from her skull.

Outside the van, Sam could hear the faint crunch of boots on glass, but they were muffled by the ringing in his ears.

‘Alex?’ he mumbled, his voice cracking in fear at their impending death.

He’d promised to help her.

To save her.

He’d failed.

The driver’s side door was wrenched open, and through his blurred vision, Sam saw two arms reach in, unclip Alex’s belt and wrench her from the car. He tried his best to call out, to remonstrate with their attackers.

He would offer himself in her place.