He felt the bullet slam into his shoulder just above his heart. He stumbled but didn't fall.

He didn't feel the pain, his whole body felt numb and somehow disconnected from his head. The world seemed to slow down before his eyes.

His heartbeat was pounding in his head.

Dimly, he registered that someone was yelling in his face. It was Ben, or Fox, shouting at him.

Another shot was fired, this time the force of bullet had brought him down to his knees.

He raised a shaking hand and touched his left shoulder where the last two bullets had hit. His hand came away dripping with blood.

He took a deep shaking breath and got up and started to run after Ben, to door of the helicopter where the rest of the team was waiting.

They wouldn't see the blood from his chest, his black jacket made sure of that. He could feel everything, it was like his senses were enhanced.

The way his feet crunched on the gravel, the sound of his ankle slightly dragging behind him and every breath he took was magnified.

He could feel the adrenaline pulsing through him, the only thing that was keeping him upright and running. The sounds of gunshots where still echoing in his ears and he could taste blood in his mouth. He kept running, the helicopter wasn't far away now, his ankle was searing with pain.

Ben had already climbed in and was strapping himself in. The ground around him was being torn up by bullets.

He sprinted faster and in one motion hauled himself up into the helicopter. That's when things started to go wrong.

His legs, felt as if they no longer had the strength to stay upright. He staggered and fell into a seat right on the edge of the copter.

His breath was coming harder now. He rested his chin on his chest and closed his eyes.

Sound filled his ears, but it was slowly getting farther and farther away. His heartbeat pounded all over his body.

Every beat sent bursts of pain through his head. His shoulder was still numb, but he could feel the blood dripping down under his shirt.

He wiped his hands on his pants. He grimaced and tried to take a breath, but it was stuck in his throat. He was starting to panic now, his hands and body shaking uncontrollably.

Blood was dripping from his jacket onto the seat. Suddenly, there was someone roughly shaking his shoulders, he looked up, it was a medic.

The edges of his vision were starting to go blurry, and there was a ringing in his ears. He let his head drop onto his chest again.

Then, he was lying on the floor, the faces of the medic and his team seemed to be floating above him. A hand slapped his face, but he barely registered it.

His jacket was then ripped open and he could faintly hear curses and swearing. His once gray shirt was now covering in crimson blood.

A pool of blood was spreading out beneath him too, he could feel that. The medic had started to put pressure pads, and bandages on his wounds.

He didn't care, he felt very relaxed. He closed his eyes, again another hand sharply slapped him. He hadn't felt it but he opened his eyes anyways.

The world was different now. Everything was thrown into sharp focus, everything seemed to slow down too, more than before.

He could hear his own breaths now, becoming shallower and shallower. He could see with his enhanced vision every nook and cranny of the copters roof.

The blades outside swung slowly, almost lazily, beyond that he could see blue sky with a hint of snowy white clouds. It was beautiful, he felt at peace. He felt as if he could take anything that came his way. His face was wet, he realized, from tears.

He gazed once more at the faces of his team and thought of everyone he had ever loved.

Pictures flashed before his eyes, his mother and father both dressed nicely framed that old picture he kept by his night table when he was a kid, Ian and him in a Christmas picture, Paris, the Eiffel Tower, his savings someone's life, kissing the love of his life and more they flew by one after the other in his mind's eye.

Then the memories started to turn into the bad ones he had always kept in the deep depths of his mind. Watching his parents being murdered, being tortured, waking up countless times in a sterile hospital room.

The face of Eric Finch, the ultimate traitor and terrorist.

His heart started to race, his body started to panic and struggle. Pain was coming now, all over, like red hot lava running over him in streams.

He looked again at the blue sky between the copter blades and closed his eyes.