They all bent to their task, not shying away from proximity to the bomb even though they knew how much damage it was capable of inflicting. Ringed as they were around it, their bodies mostly blocked the faint, flickering orange glow from Fiona’s lighter. Despite having two sentries, they needed to do all they could to escape notice; all eyes would be turned to the tracks in mere moments if all went according to plan.
“On my mark then,” Lachlan agreed, first meeting Fiona’s gaze, then that of their accomplice. They all needed to be on the same page, and they all needed to be confident that the device had been configured correctly. There was no margin for error, the slightest mistake in the bomb’s construction would be the difference between a resistance victory, and a crushing failure.
Finding no hint of doubt in their eyes, Lachlan dropped his own gaze down to the timing mechanism. He set it as directed, knowing they could not spare any more time.
“Go!”
Not that they needed any encouragement to run as the seconds ticked down from thirty to twenty-nine. They all rose to their feet as one cohesive unit, they all turned, and they all ran. And they all nearly made it to cover, before the third member of their crew stumbled at the last, sprawling face forward into the dirt.
Lachlan swore under his breath before waving his hand to urge Fiona to go on. She moved fast, but his stride was longer than hers and he could cross the distance more quickly. Lachlan ran back and bunched his hand at the other man’s collar before hauling him to his feet.
Their time was up. Lachlan had been counting down in his mind. He shoved the man forward behind the cover with Fiona, taking it himself a moment too late. The sound the bomb made as it detonated was deafening, and the force of the blast knocked Lachlan off his feet. He landed hard, and all the breath was knocked out of him. Still, he managed to grin and say “well, it worked,” as rocks and twisted scraps of metal rained down around them.