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A.R.Yngve
PARRY'S PROTOCOL
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Chapter 47
Within fifteen seconds, Parry had received the gas cans and a lighter, and the nurses had turned on the water and rolled out the hose -- all the while watching the stairs.
As Simon quickly turned up the water pressure, a round metal object bounced down the staircase. Parry, holding the hose nozzle, reacted within a moment. He leaped into the side corridor leading to his cell. The grenade exploded in a dull, flashing bang, and a puff of smoke instantly filled the basement. All ceiling lamps imploded -- followed by a wet thud when Simon was hurled past the special room and hit the boiler at the end of the basement.
Parry coughed in the darkness, muttered a curse. Then, silence -- except for the sound of water trickling down from the ceiling. A dark figure crawled down the blocked stairway, feet first, and swept a flashlight beam through the smoke. The figure, a man dressed in dark-blue coveralls, cap, dark glasses, and a flak jacket, froze still. He aimed a submachine gun and his flashlight at Simon's bloody body; it lay twisted against the pipes and lockers of the boiler, grey with dust.
"One dead guy here!" the man shouted toward the stairs.
Another voice replied from the top of the stairs: "Check all rooms, there are some missing ones!"
The man stepped toward the side corridor a few meters ahead of him. Suddenly, there was a sound from behind the corner ahead -- the man fired a quick burst from the waist -- the next second, a gasoline can swept in a burning rag was thrown at him from a point near the floor. It bounced at the wall on his right and exploded into fire and metal splinter.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA..."
The explosion threw the man backward and he caught fire, screaming. He got up on his feet and threw himself like a living torch at the closest leaking water pipe -- and was struck down on his left by a high-pressure water jet from Parry's fire hose.
Parry rushed out of the side corridor and drenched the burning figure in water, putting out the flames in three seconds. He aimed the jet at the fires by the stairs, while crouching down at the smoking body. He tore loose a part of his already torn sweater, and wrapped it around his hand -- and wrung loose the machine-gun which hung by a strap to the body's shoulder.
The stench from the burned body made Parry's nose and eyes run. Most of the flames were put out in a few seconds, and he dropped the gushing water-hose to the wet floor. Something rustled down the stairs -- he grabbed the hot machine-gun and spun around on his knees. Another armed man slid down the rubble -- he did not quite manage to answer Parry's volley of bullets:
TRRRRATTATTATT
In the stroboscopic flash from the nozzle flame, the man flickered like a figure in a silent movie -- twitched and spattered the wall behind him with blood. He toppled backward and Parry leaped to his feet. With his sooty Uzi aimed at the foot of the stairs, Parry tore at the fallen man's shoulder strap; opened it, pulled loose another Uzi and a few grenades, and added them to his arsenal.
From upstairs, excited voices and running steps were approaching. Parry grabbed two grenades from the the shoulder strap, pulled the safety pins with his teeth, waited a second -- the steps were very close. He stood up, shook off the loose safety pieces from the grenades -- paused a second -- lobbed the grenades up through the stairway -- darted away.
Two almost simultaneous bangs shook the basement as Parry ran to the special room that had been his cell. He threw open the visitor's door and lit the cigarette lighter: on the other side of the room, behind the glass wall, Abram, Joyce and the two others were huddling in the dark.
"Everybody out," Parry ordered, wheezing.