I stared back at the group, they had obviously been through hell. I felt a twinge of embarassment, my clothes were stained with sweat, I hadnt shaved in days and my hands and face were blackened from dirt.
One of the group passed me a pistol, he was wearing a different uniform to the others. He also looked like he had been severely wounded.
I turned to the girl, something about her scared me but I couldn't put my finger on it.
"I..I can fly any helicopter on site...I learnt in the army" I stuttered. I tried to show that I was experienced by flipping the safety back on the Glock, but my hands were still shaking erratically.
"Theres an old Bell 142 on the Helipad near the hangars, how many people are going to be flying?" I asked. Surely there must be more of them than this, it was hardly the biggest rescue squad.
I saw one of the troops start shooting, it looked like we were leaving. I willed my legs to stop shaking and started to run.
"Follow me, I'll take you to the helipad".