(no subject)
She'd packed up, ready to go as soon as London got back to her with instructions. It was early evening, twilight, and as always, there was the sound of an occasional plane flying over.
An odd noise makes her stop. She listens, pricking up her ears, and the sound comes again. Something mechanical, an engine straining. She slips her gun into her hand, turns out the light and peeps out the window.
It's an aeroplane, and it seems to be on fire as it descends rapidly to the ground. The pilot is doing their best to pull it up and minimise the impact, but it crash-lands in a field.
Carlotta hesitates, then slips the gun into her pocket, grabs a torch and her keys, and climbs out the window and down the drainpipe. She runs as fast as she can to the field, then hides near the fallen plane, trying to check which side the plane is from.
British. She turns on the torch and comes closer, hoping there isn't a dead pilot inside.
"Hallo?" she calls out, in English, climbing on the plane's wing to peep cautiously inside. She's more than a little relieved when the pilot moves, and looks up at her.
Carlotta and Will stare at one another. He looks somewhat more confused than she does.
"Carlotta?! ... have I landed in England?"
"No, you're in Spain... I'll explain in a minute but are you hurt?" Carlotta asks, trying to remember some first aid. "Should I call an ambulance?"
"I think I'm okay." Will says, climbing carefully out of the plane. He has a few obvious cuts, including one on his head, but otherwise looks relatively unharmed. "But we should move fast before this plane explodes."
She takes his hand and helps him down from the plane, and away from it as quickly as possible. It does indeed explode, and they dive onto the ground to evade the blast.
"That was close." Will says. He's shaking slightly, and Carlotta slips her hand around him for a moment. He looks back at her. "I must know why you are here."
"I'm doing some sort of work for the British." she says quietly. "But if we see anyone, I have to talk in Spanish. Come back to where I'm staying so I can patch you up; I'll give you a full explanation later."
Praying silently not to be seen, she helps him back to her rented room, patches him up as best she can, and then holds him close, in her arms. She's nearly lost him twice in a week, and now, it's going to be very hard to let him go.
An odd noise makes her stop. She listens, pricking up her ears, and the sound comes again. Something mechanical, an engine straining. She slips her gun into her hand, turns out the light and peeps out the window.
It's an aeroplane, and it seems to be on fire as it descends rapidly to the ground. The pilot is doing their best to pull it up and minimise the impact, but it crash-lands in a field.
Carlotta hesitates, then slips the gun into her pocket, grabs a torch and her keys, and climbs out the window and down the drainpipe. She runs as fast as she can to the field, then hides near the fallen plane, trying to check which side the plane is from.
British. She turns on the torch and comes closer, hoping there isn't a dead pilot inside.
"Hallo?" she calls out, in English, climbing on the plane's wing to peep cautiously inside. She's more than a little relieved when the pilot moves, and looks up at her.
Carlotta and Will stare at one another. He looks somewhat more confused than she does.
"Carlotta?! ... have I landed in England?"
"No, you're in Spain... I'll explain in a minute but are you hurt?" Carlotta asks, trying to remember some first aid. "Should I call an ambulance?"
"I think I'm okay." Will says, climbing carefully out of the plane. He has a few obvious cuts, including one on his head, but otherwise looks relatively unharmed. "But we should move fast before this plane explodes."
She takes his hand and helps him down from the plane, and away from it as quickly as possible. It does indeed explode, and they dive onto the ground to evade the blast.
"That was close." Will says. He's shaking slightly, and Carlotta slips her hand around him for a moment. He looks back at her. "I must know why you are here."
"I'm doing some sort of work for the British." she says quietly. "But if we see anyone, I have to talk in Spanish. Come back to where I'm staying so I can patch you up; I'll give you a full explanation later."
Praying silently not to be seen, she helps him back to her rented room, patches him up as best she can, and then holds him close, in her arms. She's nearly lost him twice in a week, and now, it's going to be very hard to let him go.