The pub was alive with laughter. Soap was telling the story again—how you’d backed the fire truck into a wall your first week—and even you couldn’t help but laugh this time. Price smirked behind his cigar, Gaz rolled his eyes, and Ghost even gave a quiet huff, which, from him, might as well have been a laugh.

For once, you felt like part of the crew.

Then your radio crackled. “Engine Captain, structure fire reported. Multiple entrapments. Respond immediately.”

You groaned, pushing to your feet. “Guess the fun’s over. Duty calls.”

Soap raised his glass. “Don’t smash this one, aye?”

You tossed him a look and headed for the door, the cool air a shock after the warmth of the pub. Your squad car waited at the curb, just where you’d parked it. You swung the door open—

And the world detonated.

A pipe bomb wired beneath the chassis blew in a flash of white-hot fire. The blast hurled you off your feet, straight into the road. You hit hard, tumbling before you came to rest on the asphalt, smoke rising from your torn uniform. The shriek of the pub crowd erupted behind you as windows shattered from the shockwave.

The lads were out the door in seconds.

“CAPTAIN!” Soap’s scream split the night. He sprinted into the street before Gaz or Price could stop him, dropping to his knees at your side. His breath hitched when he saw you—blood pouring across the pavement, your right arm gone below the elbow, torn away by the blast.

“Oh Jesus—oh f***—no, no, no—” His hands shook violently as he tried to stop the bleeding with his jacket, pressing down hard.

Gaz slid in on the other side, pale and frantic. “We need a tourniquet! NOW!” He ripped his belt free and cinched it tight around your upper arm, his own hands slick with blood.

Ghost stood above you, rifle already out, scanning the panicked crowd, every muscle in his frame vibrating with rage. “Someone planted that. She was targeted.”

Price was already on comms, voice a bark of thunder. “This is Captain Price! We’ve got an IED, officer down, multiple casualties! I need medics and bomb disposal at O’Malley’s now!”

You stirred faintly, unconscious but gasping, your body convulsing against the pain. Soap’s tears streaked his face as he pressed harder on the wound. “Stay with us, Cap. Please—don’t you dare leave us now. Don’t you bloody dare!”

Price dropped to a knee beside you, his rough hand steadying your head. His voice cut softer, but no less commanding. “Hold on, love. That’s an order.”

The wail of sirens grew closer, but to the 141, it already felt too far away.