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Desert Love	By : Krayzee_Aussie Category: Celebrities - Misc > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 4321 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction! I do not know Prince Harry of Wales, Prince Charles, Prince William, Kate Middleton, Queen Elizabeth, Camilla Parker-Bowles or Prince Phillip, Corporal Ben Roberts-Smith VC and I do not profit from this story.

Chapter List
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  Harry was getting nervous, Desiree had been gone far too long, and he could see Afma thought the same thing. He called over another of his men and murmured some words to him. The man nodded and disappeared into store.
“What’s she doing, sir? She’s going to get everyone killed,” one of the military men beside him growled. Harry ignored him, right now there was no terrorists around him, so that meant he could slip his hand into his sock and reach the knife.
He did so, ever so slowly, not wanting to draw attention to himself. “We need to get ready, something is happening,” he warned. The message was quietly passed up the line. Harry carefully opened the knife, it was sharp, he nicked his thumb trying to open it. Eventually he opened it enough that he could slice the zip ties on one of his hands. Once it was cut he checked to make sure no one was watching and slipped the knife to the next person.
Once he had done so, he carefully made sure to pick up the zip tie and place it back on his wrist and hold it together by his fingers to give the impression he was still secured. The other eight men followed his example. Soon they were all untied.
It wasn’t a moment too soon either, Afma sent two men to stand over them, it appeared stuff was getting serious now. Afma was about to say something to them all when there was gun fire inside of the store.
“What the fuck was that?” one of the men beside him groaned. Afma moved to a better position to see what had happened.
Harry saw Desiree run around and down an aisle inside the store, she came to a sliding stop, looking out at Afma. What she did next he was not expecting.
She ripped the Burqa up and over her head, revealing her face. “Hey Afma, looking for me?” she shouted and fired.
“Now!” Harry shouted, the eight men all leaped to their feet and lunged at the two men standing above them, who had been distracted by Desiree, they wrestled the weapons off of them, shooting down another who went to run towards them.
“Forget them! It’s the whore of the infidel! Kill her!” Afma shouted, sprinting away before the two men who had taken the rifles could gun him down. The three remaining men sprinted into the store after her.
Harry moved to the group of women and men who were cowering and crying. “Stop crying and move! Go, go, go!” he shouted, waving his hands in the air. The two men with the weapons stood on overwatch, in case the terrorists should come back their way, the other three checking bodies of terrorists and civilians lying on the ground. Harry ran the women out to the side emergency entrance closest to the coffee shop. They crashed out of the doors into the waiting arms of police tactical response.
Harry turned to Damian. “Get George out of here, he can barely see out of his eye, and take the injured with you.”
“No way, sir, our task is to stay with and protect you,” George argued.
Harry glared at him. “I’ve got two shooters in there who are now armed as well as three other men quite capable of fighting. I’m fine, go!” Harry pushed them out of the door before sprinting back in. Three of the tactical response followed him in.
“Where did they go?” he asked, crouching behind cover with the two shooters, the three tactical officers edging along the other stores where the three extra army personnel were also trying to spot Desiree and the terrorists. They motioned that they couldn’t get a visual on her.
“We don’t know, sir, she’s sprinted into the rear corner of the shop where no one will be able to see her. She’s going to be cornered like a rat.” One of the Shooters handed him a hand gun.
“You guys,” Harry said pointing to the unarmed men. “Secure the terrorists and wait for the police and medics to move in. You guys, move in,” Harry ordered to the Shooters and Tactical officers. They began to move, just as there was the sound of more weapons fire. They hurried in, careful to stick to cover.
******
                Desiree had sprinted through the aisles. Although she had hoped that using the aisles to confuse the terrorists would prove effective, there was more of them than there was of her. She fired and moved, trying to outmanoeuvre them, but soon they had her backed into a corner with very little cover. She stepped out of her cover from behind the cold fridges, going to fire at a terrorist who had done a poor job of finding cover himself. She went to fire her rifle, but it jammed. She quickly dove out of the way, back behind the freezer, as the spot she was just standing on was peppered by bullets.
When she landed, she looked down and found she had been struck by what appeared to be a ricochet, in her right knee. She tried to stand and found the pain quite severe as she struggled to take a knee, she pulled out her hand gun and continued trying to suppress the terrorists, but she knew they were closing in on her and she was low on ammo.
With the position she was in, she had to try and cover both her front and back, she knew she had two approaching from her front, the other she hadn’t seen in awhile and knew he must have been trying to flank her. She started using her ammo sparingly, only firing when she really had to stop them in their tracks.
The third terrorist appeared behind her, she struggled to her feet, pushing her back against the fridges to try and make herself a smaller target. She continued to fire, but he disappeared back around the corner. She turned back to fire on the other two, only to find they were within arms reach of her, she fired and stepped back, only to have her injured knee give away on her.
The two terrorists close to her took advantage of this, racing forward and knocking her hand gun away. She threw a punch that struck Afma in the cheek but the other knocked her from her feet. She quickly pulled the Quama from her side and slashed at Afma, she slashed his arm but the other had recovered and kicked her down, causing the knife to fall from her hand. Afma began kicking her, striking any available space he could find. The other two soon joined him, they stripped her weapons from her, Afma picking up the Quama from her, and began striking her with the butt of their rifles or kicking at her with their feet. She tried to get her elbows to take the brunt of their blows, but they were soon breaking through her defences, she felt a rib break and there was blood in her mouth. She curled into a ball, in an effort to prevent their blows from striking any vital organs, but Afma was having none of that.
Afma dragged her out from the aisle, by her hair, forcing her onto her knees. “I shall destroy you for your genocide of my people! You killed many of our holy warriors and brought injustice to our country and people!”
“I did no such thing, have you spoken to the real people of Afghanistan, I helped them,” she panted, spitting blood at his feet. “I only did to ‘your people’ what the real people of Afghanistan couldn’t.”
“Whore of the Infidel!” Afma screeched, hitting her with the rifle butt again. “You have no right to speak to me, woman, let alone to spread your lies and heresay!” She fell back, but clambered back to her knees again, defiant to Afma’s assault. She was certain her shoulder was dislocated and suspected her left arm may have been broken at some point.
“Is that the best you’ve got? I would say you hit like a girl, but that would be insulting to people like me,” she said. Afma began to beat her again.
******
Harry rounded a corner, the hand gun he carried poised ready in front of him and came to view the horrific scene, Desiree was on her knees, blood was coming from her mouth and nose, and there were open wounds on her arms. She also seemed to be bleeding from her right knee.
“Afma!” Harry shouted, taking cover behind a short barricade, the tactical officers and shooters falling into cover around him. Afma pulled a knife from its sheath, grabbing her by her hair and holding the knife to her throat. Desiree’s eyes met his. They were resolute, no emotions were given away and she did not fight back. Her arms hung limply by her sides as he saw her swallow heavily.
“You look like shit,” Harry joked, bringing the slightest of smirks to her face.
“At least I’m not a ranga.”
“Enough!” Afma shouted angrily.
“Let her go, mate, this wasn’t her fault, she was simply following orders,” Harry tried to reason.
“You know nothing of what this woman did, stay out of this, come any closer and I will slit her throat!” Afma snarled. Desiree looked resolutely at Harry. If she was scared, she wasn’t showing it.
“I was there with her, I saw what she did, and I saw the smiles on the people’s faces. She gave them hope for peace and prosperity where there normally was none,” Harry replied, while two of the tactical officer’s peeled off to try and flank them.
Afma glared at him, threatening to slit Desiree with the knife, and then his eyes narrowed. He stared at Harry for a moment. Harry could feel the men with him tense up, he knew that look on Afma’s face. He was processing what he was seeing.
Suddenly, his face changed, to one of recognition. “It’s Prince Harry of Wales!” he shouted. The two terrorists with him were alarmed. “Shoot him! Shoot him!” Harry dove for cover.
The two shooters took their shots, taking down the terrorists before they could get an accurate shot off. Harry went to stand back up, taking aim at Afma, but Afma had already pulled his own hand gun and was preparing to fire. But Desiree launched herself to her feet, knocking Afma to the ground with whatever strength she had remaining. She knocked the hand gun away and then pinned him to the ground with her good knee. “Sorry, mother fucker, not today.” She punched him, hard, right in his forehead, knocking him out cold.
Desiree fell to the side, pulling herself away from Afma and propping her back up against a counter and holding one of her arms. Harry hurried to her side as she looked back to where Afma’s now prone body lay, while the shooters and tactical response teams moved to the other two terrorists, securing them and checking their injuries.
“How many times am I going to have to patch you up?” Harry joked as he checked over her injuries. Desiree scoffed, but didn’t answer. She was suffering many injuries from what he could tell from first glance; broken ribs, her cheek bone looked like it might be fractured and her nose and lips were bleeding. Her left shoulder was dislocated and her arm broken. There was a gunshot shot wound in her knee too, it looked serious.
“So, doc,” Desiree mocked. “How bad is it?”
“I’ve seen worse,” he answered, smiling, before motioning for one of the shooters to fetch the paramedics.
******
                As Harry began to give Desiree basic first aid, Afma came too. He pulled another handgun from his back, rolling to his side and preparing to shoot.
Desiree spotted him at the last minute. “Watch out!” she shouted, ignoring the pain in her arms and shoving Harry roughly away from her, pushing herself forward to block the shot. Afma fired, the bullet striking Desiree in the chest. She felt herself thrown backwards with great force. Her chest seemed to be on fire as she felt the wind knocked out of her. Harry recovered from falling back, rolling onto his side and firing his own handgun. The bullet struck Afma between the eyes.
Desiree slumped back, her breathing laboured and every breath was pure pain. She felt her chest getting heavier and heavier. She focused on keeping her consciousness, but she could feel it beginning to mingle with the pain. Harry appeared at her side, screaming for a medic. She looked back to Afma, the police were securing the body, checking his pulse. She saw them shake their head. He was dead.
The shooters appeared by Harry’s side, beginning to help him with first aid, carefully sliding her to the ground. She recognised their faces. They were two of the boys that she had trained, but their faces seemed different. They were laced with concern and fear.
She looked back to Harry’s face, it was contorted in some kind of pain. She raised her hand as the paramedics arrived. Harry took it, holding it tight. “You okay, H?”
“Yeah, of course, thanks to you,” he stammered, as the paramedics cut open her top.
She smiled, drifting into unconsciousness.
******
                Harry looked down at Desiree, it felt like his heart was slowly being ripped apart as he watched her struggling to breathe. The paramedics moved in, trying to stop her bleeding and putting an oxygen mask over her face.
“We’re losing her,” one of the paramedics said, beginning CPR. Harry was pushed to the side, the shooters moved back, letting the other paramedic in to help.
“Desiree!” Harry shouted, leaning down to her head. “Snap out of it! You’ve survived three trips to Afghanistan and a jihad once! Don’t you dare let go!”
“Still no pulse.”
“Desiree,” Harry stammered. “You can’t leave your son, he’s already lost his dad, come back!” The paramedic shook her head again, the other continued CPR. “Desiree, please come back, do it for Ryan, please, do it for me.” He whispered the last to himself, looking down at the hand still clutched in both of his, limp and lifeless.
******
                Desiree felt strong hands on either side of her. And two strong hands in particular. The skin was soft but the hand was strong, it held tightly to her hand. She heard someone tell her she couldn’t leave her son. It came again, this time clearer, it was a thick and familiar British accent. She heard him ask for her to come back, do it for Ryan, and for him.
She was confused, but tried to wake up. Her chest felt heavy and yet on fire at the same time. Her mouth tasted metallic, it was disgusting and she felt the need to spit. She slowly opened her eyes, and found the paramedics working on her, apparently trying to stabilise her. She turned her eyes to the side, Harry was still there, holding onto her hand still, he had tears in his eyes.
She tilted her head to look at his face better and found it restricted by a neck brace. She looked down in concern, and suddenly remembered, she had been shot in the chest by Afma. She laid her head back and groaned. “Well, that sucks.”
Harry laughed. “Welcome back, Des.”
“Bring out the marching band,” she murmured, as the paramedics went on stabilising her. She glanced to Harry’s hands, gripping tightly onto her own. She gave his hand a little squeeze. “Thanks for hanging out, mate.”
Harry gave a small smile, before patting her hand. “It’s the least I could do.”
******
Harry and the shooters helped the paramedics ease Desiree onto a spinal board and then lift her onto their gurney. They then began to wheel her out to the front of the centre where the ambulance was ready and waiting to receive her and transport her. It was decided she would be taken to the military hospital instead of the public one for security reasons.
Desiree was starting to slip in and out of consciousness again, and Harry was tasked with trying to keep her as lucid as possible.
As she was wheeled out of the front doors of the shops, someone started clapping slowly. Gradually, the rest of the crowd began to join them. Harry watched as Desiree’s eye began to dart around in confusion.
The crowd began to cheer for Desiree and Harry looked down at her, smiling. “They’re cheering for you, Des. You saved a lot of people today.”
He watched as Desiree’s cheeks began to go pink. “I just did what I’ve been trained to do. Nothing special.”
“You did more than that, Des.”
Before he could continue, Colonel Buchannan and Ryan sprinted up, followed closely by Wing Commander Buchannan.
“Des! How is she? What’s the damage?” Colonel Buchannan demanded of the paramedics. Federal Police ran forward to hold them back but Harry waved them off.
“Where’s Ryan?” Desiree asked, groggily. The drugs the paramedics had given her were starting to really kick in.
“I’m here, mum!” he exclaimed, his voice croaky, as if he had been crying a lot. Harry let go of Desiree’s hand and pulled Ryan to his mother’s side. “Mum,” he began to cry. “Are you okay? You’re not going to die are you?”
Desiree smiled, pulling him into a hug. “Nah, baby. You know I’m way too tough to go like that.” She let him go as the paramedics wheeled her towards the ambulance, her mum and dad going along with her.
Harry stopped and waited beside Ryan, watching as Desiree’s parents fussed over her. “You know, your mum’s kind of like a real life Wonder Woman?”
Ryan sniffled a little and wiped his nose on his sleeve. “She would get angry at you for saying that,” he replied, causing Harry to look at him in surprise. Ryan turned to look at him. “She hates DC universe. Marvel only.” Harry smiled and patted Ryan on the shoulder. “How did she get shot, anyway?”
Harry hesitated, looking over as Desiree was hoisted into the ambulance and they started hooking her up to machines inside. He sighed before kneeling down and looked back at the young boy. “She got shot, trying to protect me,” Harry admitted, feeling the words catching in his throat. “I’m sorry, Ryan.”
Ryan looked thoughtfully at Harry, then at the ambulance. He turned back to Harry, a resolute look on his face. “I’m glad she kept her promise to the queen then.” Harry stared in surprise at Ryan for a moment, until Wing Commander Buchannan waved him over. Ryan sprinted away immediately, leaving Harry standing by himself pondering the boy’s words.
Harry continued to watch from afar, until the Colonel walked over and stood in front of him. Harry stood fast in surprise, but the Colonel waved him off.
“Relax, Harry. May I call you that?” Harry nodded once, and the Colonel gave a small smile. “Get in the ambulance with Des. I know you’re worried about her. I never thought I could see a ranga get any more pale, but you’re certainly putting up a good argument.”
“Are you sure, sir?” Harry asked in surprise. He was certain that her mother would have put up a fight to get into the ambulance.
The Colonel nodded. “You two have been through hell together, twice now. I know it would mean a lot to have you in there. We need to get home and get out of our uniforms first anyway. I’ve organised for Fed police to follow you and to give you guys an escort to the base, so you don’t need to worry about that.”
Harry nodded and hurried over to the ambulance. As he was level with it, the pregnant hostage was at the door of the ambulance, shouting something while the police were trying to pull her away. “I just want to talk to her? Is she okay?”
Harry intervened, stepping in front of her. “Ma’am, are you okay?”
“She saved my life and made sure I was okay, I want to know if she will be okay?” she was sobbing uncontrollably.
“She’s going to be fine,” one of the paramedics called out. “She needs a good patch job and it will take some time, but she will recover absolutely fine eventually.”
Harry looked at her pointedly. “I’m sure she’s grateful for your concern, but you should be getting to a hospital yourself, they’ll be wanting to make sure your baby is okay in there, and Desiree would hate to see anything happen to you because of the stress from this,” Harry said soothingly.
The woman tried to look past Harry, but seemed satisfied. She suddenly lunged forward and hugged Harry. “Thank you to you both! I know that you were both working together.” Harry patted her on the back, before she turned and was led away by another paramedic.
“Alright, we need to get her into the hospital now,” the paramedic called out the back of the ambulance. Harry shook the Colonel’s hand before climbing on board, sitting beside Desiree and taking her hand again.
On the way to the hospital, Desiree drifted in and out of consciousness. Harry kept pondering what Ryan said to him, about Desiree’s promise to the queen.
“What’s got you thinking so hard?” Desiree croaked, in a moment of consciousness. Harry looked up in surprise. “With that red hair it looks like your head might pop off if you think too hard.”
Harry looked at her incredulously, before scoffing. “Seriously, laid up with some serious injuries and can still throw insults with the best of them.”
“It’s the Aussie way, mate,” she said wincing as she tried to move. The paramedic stopped her moving, and she growled in annoyance.
“Take it easy, Des. You’ve got to be careful you don’t make any of these injuries worse.”
                At the hospital, Harry waited patiently outside the operating theatre for news on Desiree. While there, he further pondered Ryan’s words. ‘I’m glad she could keep her promise to the queen.’ He wondered if perhaps he was looking too much into it and that the boy meant the oath taken at enlistment.
Desiree’s family soon appeared, dressed in civilian attire. Harry stood up to greet them.
“Relax, mate,” the Colonel said, waving him off again. He pointed to the young woman and man standing behind them, worried looks on their faces. “This is Desiree’s sister, Ana, and her brother, Dan.” Harry shook their hands.
“Any word yet?” her mother asked. Harry shook his head ruefully. Ryan looked tired, like he was worn with worry.
A door opened at the far end of the corridor and a doctor appeared, taking his mask from his face. He walked towards them, a chart in his hand. “Major Kitana’s family?” he asked. The Colonel stepped forward, nodding. “Major Kitana has suffered several broken ribs, the left arm suffered a serious break and her shoulder was dislocated, although it looks like it wasn’t the first time?” Her mother shook her head. Somehow that didn’t surprise Harry. “She’s also got a fractured cheek bone and some minor cuts and abrasions around her body. She did suffer some internal bleeding too. Her most serious injuries and injuries that are of the most concern is her gun shot wound in her chest and her knee.”
“How serious is her chest injury?” Harry asked, reluctantly.
“She’s very lucky, it’s missed anything important, just. She’s just going to be in a lot of pain for awhile there, and we will need to keep an eye for infection there, because that could cause far more serious concerns. The knee, well, that’s a big mess.”
“What’s happened?” The Colonel demanded, his face was quite white.
“It would appear that she’s been hit by a ricochet, the bullet integrity has been compromised, so when it’s hit her knee, its shattered inside and ripped up a lot of cartilage. She’s going to take a while to recover from that.”
“Can we see her?” Ana asked, her voice sounding tight.
“You can, but it will be awhile until she’s lucid.” Her mother, sister, brother and Ryan began following the doctor, while the Colonel stopped Harry.
“Mate, I hate to do this to you, but you need to get back to the unit. AFP want to speak to you about your version of events, and I believe your grandmother wants a word too,” the Colonel explained. Harry went to argue but the Colonel held his hand up. “Sorry, mate. Orders. Come back first thing in the morning, I’ll make sure they let you in as soon as you arrive, alright?”
Harry sighed, but nodded. The Colonel was right, he needed to be debriefed and let his family know he was alright too.
The Colonel took his hand and shook it firmly. “Thanks for being there for her, don’t feel bad. She never puts herself first.”
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Desert Love