Sorry for the wait, but I hope you enjoy. Dedicated to @Smilebob12345 for keeping me on track. Thank you. 

Chapter 21

Michael took a deep breath as the video conference call enabled and he was streamed into the office of 10 Downing Street.

"Prime Minister," Michael clasped his hands behind his back and looked down into the laptop screen on the table in front of him where he could see the torso and lower half of the prime minister as he sat at his desk.

He did not right the camera as he busied himself signing separate documents in front of him leaving Michael with only a partial view of him.

"Mr Truro," He called out in a diplomatic voice, "Are we any closer to identifying these individuals?"

"No sir," Truro replied, "But we have enacted the terrorism protocol and have all high-profile targets on lockdown. It is very unlikely that they will be able to follow through with their plan."

"If those are indeed the intended targets," The PM turned and looked at the camera with an arched eyebrow.

"It is possible sir that there may be other intended targets and we are co-ordinating with the local police forces to search as many places as we can, but until we identify those involved it's, pardon the phrase, but looking for a needle in a haystack."

The prime minister stopped what he was doing and turned to the camera, staring at Truro's image on his screen.

"Sir," Truro stood taller, clasping his hands in front of him.

"What are you suggesting, Mr Truro, that we stop searching?"

"Not at all, sir," Truro shook his head, "We have located the main terrorist cell in Afghanistan responsible for the planning of this attack. They will have the information we need."

"What are you waiting for then?" He asked, "There is a credible threat to British soil."

"Sir," Truro stepped forward, lowering the volume of his voice, "They have your niece, and nearly two dozen children."

The Prime Minister reached up and slowly removed the glasses from his nose as he ran a hand across his mouth, staring across the room.

Truro looked around him as he gave the PM the time he needed but they may have already run out of time. They don't know when the attack was supposed to take place, or where.

"Sir," Truro called, "If we engage the enemy then we risk the chance of . . ."

Coughing, the prime minister turned back to the camera, "Is a night time assault possible?"

"We are drawing up contingencies at this very moment for the least amount of casualties, but sir," Truro leant against the desk, "that's not what I'm asking."

"What are you asking?" the prime minister stared at him through the screen.

Truro took a breath, "We don't know how many bombs or individuals there are, we don't know how many targets there are or how many people could be harmed in these attacks. It could be worse than the 7/7 bombings."

Truro looked up and saw the people around him pause as they remembered the attacks.

"But what we do know sir is the location of the head terrorist cell and they may not be there for long. We will carry out an operation and try to rescue everyone inside along with valuable intel to the best of our ability, but if there is a risk that they could escape then . . ." Truro looked down.

"Yes, what is it?" the prime minister prompted him.

"I'm asking for you to approve an airstrike on the location, as a last resort," Truro stood up, "And you should know sir that there may be a possibility that your niece and the children will still be inside when it happens."

The prime minister went silent and the minutes seemed to drag out in front of them before he reluctantly gave a small nod of his head, "As prime minister I must place the wellbeing of this great nation and it's people before everything else."

Truro wasn't sure what he was meant to feel but a heavy weight settled upon his shoulders.

"You have my permission for the air strike," the prime minister closed his eyes as he said it, praying to God to save his soul, "But as a last resort only, and I wish to be in the room when the operation goes live."

"Yes sir," Truro nodded as he watched the prime minister reach out and end the video call.

As the screen went black, Michael took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. He really hoped he wouldn't have to make that call.

General Ridgeway's team better be as good as he says it is, Truro thought.

* * *

Sat in a hospital bed, a vase of pink flowers on the windowsill, Julia cradled a small baby in her arms. Julia's chest seemed to be near bursting with joy and love for this little one who had her father's eyes. Looking up, Julia smiled at Marc as he sat on the edge of the bed beside her, his fingers brushing through the young girl's small tuff of hair.

Julia watched him with love when Marc looked up at her and the smile on his lips faded. The room grew dark and the flowers in the vase began to wilt.

"What is happening?" Julia asked, hugging her daughter tighter against her body as Marc rose to his feet solemnly and stepped away from her, "Marc?"

Marc's face was grave as he stared down at her, "Save me, Jules."

"Save you? What do you mean?" Julia frowned, when she looked down at her child and found that her arms were empty. "No," Julia whispered in shock as the pink blanket her daughter had been wrapped in fell across her arms.

Julia clutched at the blanket as the joy in her chest was replaced with a gripping fear, "Marc?"

"Save me Jules," Marc told her again, his voice sounding as if he was speaking straight into her mind, when she looked up and saw that she was stood in the middle of a dessert with Marc directly across from her. Looking down she saw that she was dressed in full tactical gear, and instead of a blanket she was holding a rifle.

"What is this?" Julia cried out as everything began to spin, "Marc!?"

When everything stopped Julia realised that it was now the middle of the night and she was stood before a large compound which was being ravaged by a fire, and as she watched it she somehow knew that Marc was inside.

Save me Jules.

Marc's words suddenly seemed to make sense but when she took a step forward her boot became caught on something, pitching her forward. Expecting to fall on the hard desert ground, Julia was shocked when the landing was much softer than she thought it would be. Reaching out a hand to steady herself, Julia frowned when it touched something wet and warm.

Lifting her hand, Julia saw that it was covered in blood. Raising her head to look behind her, Julia frowned when she spotted an arm and a leg that did not belong to her in the glow of the fire. Looking more closely, Julia screamed when she found that she was lying on top of a pile of human bodies, their eyes staring accusingly up at her.

Crawling backwards, pushing herself over lifeless limbs, a scream was torn from her throat when she felt a cold hand wrap itself around her wrist, pulling her down, and no matter how hard she fought there seemed to be some unspeakable force acting through the dead man's arm, dragging her down. As her body was swallowed up by the pile of bodies, Julia tried to scream but the hole in which she fell closed up behind her and her scream went unheard.

As the sensation of falling washed over her body, Julia jerked awake in the front seat of the jeep. With images from her dream still swimming behind her eyelids, Julia thought of Marc and turned to look at the driver's seat but it was empty. Sitting up, she looked back between the front seats in a panic and found Carlos sat there slouched against the window, his scarf halfway up his chin as he tried to catch it with his tongue. He froze when he saw her watching and immediately let the scarf fall back around his neck as he gave her a smile.

Julia felt her muscles relax slightly when she saw him, he obviously didn't think there was any need for alarm at the moment but she wouldn't be satisfied until she knew Marc was safe, "Where are the others?"

"Toilet break," Carlos lazily pointed out the window, wiping his stubbly chin with the back of his hand.

Turning around in her seat Julia glimpsed the other jeep parked in front of them before she looked out the passenger window and saw a line of men with their backs to her, as if they were stood in a public restroom. She spotted Marc, he was the tallest of the lot, and was happy he was safe for the moment.

"Oh," Julia quickly turned back around until her back was to the window. Looking out of the corner of her eye she saw Carlos grinning at her.

"Shut up," Julia rolled her eyes.

"What were you dreaming about?" Carlos asked as he thought she had seen far worse and began to play around with his scarf once more.

"Nothing," Jules turned away but Carlos could read her like a book.

"Really?" Carlos arched an eyebrow as he caught the scarf between his teeth and dragged it up over his chin, "Didn't sound like nothing, you were-"

"-Sorry?" Jules cupped her ear and leaned forward so as to try and hear him better, "I couldn't understand that with the scarf in your mouth,"

Carlos spat the scarf out and gave her a narrowed stare, "You were calling Marc's name. And the other day you seemed pretty spooked. What's up?"

Jules wanted to tell him but something was stopping her, "It's nothing."

"Jules," Carlos laid his rifle on the seat beside him and slid forward until his elbows were resting against his knees and he was leaning in between the gap in the front seats, his eyes were fixed upon hers and she felt as if she couldn't look away.

"Julia," Carlos said again, his hands pressed flat against each other almost in prayer, "I know you love Marc and you probably talk about things with him instead, but before you met him you used to come to me with everything."

"I-" Jules tried to speak, although she didn't know what she was going to say so she was happy when Carlos interrupted her.

"I'm not saying I'm angry," Carlos reassured her, "I'm happy that you've found someone, after everything you've been through you deserve it . . ." Carlos trailed off slightly as a distant look grew in his eyes.

Julia frowned as she watched him. She couldn't remember all of her past but the parts she did know about did not warrant such a grave look from Carlos. Was there something else she didn't know about which could-

"-Anyway," Carlos shook his head a little, interrupting her train of thought, "What I'm saying is that I'm still here for you and you can trust me."

"I know that," Julia nodded, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Carlos leaned back, "Now, what's going on with you? What did you see the other day?"

Jules risked a glance over her shoulder at Marc, they didn't have long until the others came back, but she needed to tell someone.

"I saw myself kill someone," Julia told Carlos, closing her eyes because she did not wish to see the look upon his face when she said it.

"Okay," Carlos murmured, not understanding what she meant, "We've all killed people that's the job-"

"-No, it's different. I really wanted to kill him, on a personal level. We were on a mission, I don't know where or what we were doing, but I had this man in my sights, he was running away, and I shot him in the back. He was unarmed, and I shot him," Julia stared hard at her lap trying to grasp it, "And afterwards when I saw that he was still breathing, I emptied a clip from my handgun into his face."

Carlos was silent in the backseat.

Lifting her head, Julia looked back at him, "I think I killed him for my own needs instead of in the line of duty because when he was dead I felt . . . happy."

"What else do you remember? Did you see anything else except the man?"

"Just after I shot him the compound behind me suddenly blew up, and I . . ." Julia frowned, tilting her head a little as she tried to remember what she felt and saw when that happened.

"What is it?" Carlos noted her hesitation.

"I was scared, when the compound blew, I felt scared," Jules frowned, why was that significant?

"Okay," Carlos shuffled forward a little, "What does that mean?"

"I don't know," Julia closed her eyes and tried to call the memory back to the surface but it was like looking for a black button on a murky river bed, "I think someone might have been in the compound and then when it blew . . ." Julia shivered a little when she thought about it too much.

Looking back at Carlos, he looked almost paralyzed. Frozen with his arms resting on his thighs, Carlos stared out the front window with an expression of horror etched across his face.

"Carlos?" Julia turned around further in her seat, "What is it? What do you know?"

Carlos's eyes turned slowly to look at her whilst the rest of his body remained immobile, "Julia, there's something-" Carlos closed his eyes and stopped talking when the driver's side door and the passenger door across from him opened.

"Shift over," Twitch told him as he picked up Carlos's rifle so that he could slide in, "And watch where you put that thing," Twitch dumped it in Carlos's lap but when no quick remark came from his friend, Twitch looked at him with concern. "You alright, mate?"

"Hm, what? Yeah," Carlos threw himself back into the corner, his eyes flickering over Julia before he looked at Twitch and his jokey demeanour returned, "I hope you washed your hands."

"Oh yeah," Twitch replied, "They had a five-star bathroom around the corner with a fully working sink and soap dispenser."

"Good," Carlos stared out the window.

"Hey," Marc reached out and rested the tips of his fingers against her knee, his eyebrows raised slightly in concern, "You alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Julia spun back around, Marc's fingers slipping from her leg as she turned, "Let's get going."

"Alright," Marc turned away slowly, feeling dejected. Not understanding, Jules's sudden mood change, he turned the ignition on and pulled away.

* * *

They had been in the air for nearly two hours now and the silence was starting to get to her. Sam could be quiet. She had been trained on how not to talk for long periods of time and even on how to use silence against those she interrogated but this was on a whole other level. It seemed to suck all the air from the room, suffocating them, and yet those sat around her barely noticed.

Sat on one of the outer seats which stretched along the length of the plane, Sam looked across from her at the other row of seats. Occupying five of them were the operatives Ridgeway had chosen to carry out this mission. They sat with expressionless faces staring straight ahead. Even as they hit turbulence they barely flinched as the seats rattled.

Wearing all-black tactical gear, the four men and one woman looked ready to wage a war at General Ridgeway's orders.

Sam looked at the handguns holstered on both of their thighs, the extra clips of ammunition nestled into their belts along with a pouch on each hip, in which Sam could spot hand grenades inside, and a knife sheathed on the back of their left forearms. The rifle strapped over their shoulders looked like something from the future with the latest night scopes and equipment. They looked like robots to Sam that had been placed into sleep mode.

Turning her head a little to the side, Sam stared a few seats down to Ridgeway. He gave her a proud smile before she looked back at the operatives with a less than encouraging feeling in her chest.