fredbassett | Fic, Coming Home, Lyle, Ditzy, 15

Title : Coming Home
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Characters : Lyle, Ditzy
Rating : 15
Disclaimer : None this time, ‘cos they’re mine, but I’m happy to share.
Spoilers : None
Warning : It’s a dark theme, but it did happen.
Summary : Lyle and Ditzy get told where they’re going next.
A/N : Written for the

primeval_denial pre-series challenge. For those who want to know, S.R.T. stands for Single Rope Techniques.

The gun shot echoed down the shaft, the sound reverberating off the dark limestone walls.

Lyle grinned, aimed his Glock straight upwards and fired off a single shot in reply. At these depths old fashioned methods of communications were simple and unambiguous, and worked better than faffing around with whistles or radios.

He took a last look around the chamber as he was clipping his S.R.T kit onto the rope, and inclined his head in a silent gesture of respect towards the only other occupants of the cave. Not that any of them would notice, but that wasn’t the point.

The light from the open mouth of the shaft, some 200 metres above him, was fading now, casting little more than a faint glimmer onto the loose rubble and leaf debris of the talus slope under Lyle’s boots. The light cast by his LED head-torch was cold and white. A fitting illumination for a tomb that had housed the dead of two wars. Human beings who’d been thrown into the cave with as little ceremony as a farmer disposing of the corpse of a dead animal. Lyle just hoped they’d all been dead before they hit the bottom, but as he’d found one broken body some way apart from the others, he had to admit that was probably a vain hope.

He’d first descended this shaft twelve years ago when he’d helped a team of cavers from the Karst Institute retrieve the bodies of five men, murdered during the Second World War. He hadn’t expected to come back, but at that stage, no-one had expected a second war to ravage these hills either.

“We’ll have you back with your families tomorrow,” the lieutenant said quietly, speaking into the gathering shadows. It wasn’t much, but it was all they could do, and maybe it would help. It might bring someone some closure. Justice would be better, but with the shambles in the Hague still grinding on at a geological pace, he wasn’t holding out much hope for that any more.

They’d come down again tomorrow and haul what was left of the bodies up to the surface. Then that would be it for this trip, and it’d be back to the UK to find out what their next assignment was, and where.

Fifteen minutes later, he wrapped one arm around a convenient tree branch and hauled himself out over the edge of the shaft, crawling far enough away from the open hole so that he could get his gear off in safety.

When Lyle had finished de-kitting, Ditzy grinned and handed him a cold bottle of the local beer. “Got a call while you were fannying around on that last rebelay. New job's come up.”

Lyle tossed his caving helmet to one side and raised a muddy eyebrow. It looked like their next posting had come through. “Somewhere with nice caves? Preferably minus long-term inhabitants?”

To his surprise, the medic nodded. “Forest of Dean, apparently. Makes South Wales or the Mendips a distinct possibility as well. Worst we’re likely to get there is decomposing sheep.”

Lyle finished his beer and swiped what was left of Ditzy’s. “So what’s the bloody catch?”

A week and a half later, he found out.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

deinonychus-1.livejournal.com

Nice. Very atmospheric little fic.

Worst we’re likely to get there is decomposing sheep

Snigger. That was a bit of an underestimation on their part.

From:

Fic, Coming Home, Lyle, Ditzy, 15

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