After a long hiss of angry static, the radio that the Major had given him went silent, cutting off the rest of the message. John rubbed his brow, trying to make sense of what he had heard. Would they really do it? Would they really risk the lives of their own troops?
Almost as if in answer to his silent question, a whine filled the air and before he could focus on it the world shook as a missile detonated against the top floors of the neighbouring building. Books toppled from shelves the window glass cracked as the shockwave hit. He'd have to leave his make-shift radio-tower and get out of the building before his was hit. Then he had a terrible thought - what if they'd somehow tracked the fact he was trying to tune in and the missile had been meant for him? He could have got Anna killed!
Oh my god! Anna!
He turned around to find Anna collapse on the ground, a pile of books from a nearby shelf covering her. Desperately he dug her out and checked her over before sighing with relief. She was fine, unconscious, but fine. Hopefully the worst of it would be a concussion. They had to get out of the city, before it got any worse, and if what he'd managed to hear on the radio was even half of what he thought it was, it was going to get worse. There was no time to warn the Major, assuming he and his squad were still alive.
Luckily the phones were still working so after bundling Anna into a simple harness and strapping her to his back, he called the hospital. There'd be no arguing with Jane, he'd already learned that lesson this morning, and there was no point in making her worry, but she needed to know he was getting Anna out of there, that things had escalated.