Chapter 25

"Safia is gone?" Marc blinked in stunned shock as he felt a bead of sweat at his temple, "What do you mean she's gone!?"

"She's not here," Jules told him, holding her hands out beside her helplessly, "She was taken away before we got here along with three others." Her eyes scanned over the children that stilled remained, their eyes like large moons looking up at her. 

Marc felt paralysed as his brain abandoned all other bodily functions, racing to comprehend what she had said. He thought about how long it had taken them to get here, how much danger they had gone through and still they were no closer to finding her. His jaw clenched and his fingers curled into a fist by his side as the closest thing he had to a daughter was wrenched from his grasp once again. It was worse than all the times he had woken up to find Julia curled up in bed on her side with a small pool of blood between her legs as she miscarried their child again. It was ten times worse because that was something they had no control over, this, however, he thought he could fix but he was wrong. 

As his brain started to unfreeze snippets of conversations drifted through the haze that had fallen over him in those few moments and he began to not only hear but understand what the others were saying around him, but as he listened through the different voices he heard the one that tipped his anger over the edge. 

"Just kill me," The terrorist half-laughed half-cried in a heavy accent on the floor behind him as he cradled his injured leg, "More men will be here soon!" The man spat at Twitch, who stared down at him in disgust, whilst his words ignited the anger that was already lingering inside of Marc's frustrated body.  
As Marc listened, the mans words replaying in his head, something in him shut off. With his last shred of control he turned and handed his rifle to Jules who was still staring down at the children. She took it before realising what he was handing her and the significance of it. 

Across the room, unaware of what was happening to Marc, Carlos booted the terrorist in the arm, "Stick a sock in it." The man shifted on the floor sweeping some of the beige brick dust with his shoulder that layered the floor from the blast, staining his tunic. 

"You will all be dead very, very soon," The man threatened them in his guttural voice that it was almost hard to understand what he had said. Marc started slowly walking over to him as Jules looked down to see what had had given to her. It was cold and hard and felt familiar. As she saw what it was she looked back up and watched Marc cross the room. She parted her lips about to say something when she stopped herself. What would she say? Stop? Protect a terrorist?
Her thoughts turned to Safia, alone, scared and only a child, and then she looked at the man on the floor who had tried to kill them, who had used children as hostages. So Jules kept her mouth shut and let Marc walk on. 

"Hey," Carlos called across to the General who was stood with his cheer squad of soldiers having a pep talk, not noticing Marc, "Can I shoot him yet?" 

"No," Ridgeway replied dismissively not even bothering to turn around and look Carlos in the face. If he had he might have seen Marc walking towards his wounded prisoner that he so highly regarded. Carlos glared at Ridgeway's back, if he had been feeling any regret about leaving his clandestine little squad he didn't anymore. Rolling his eyes Carlos turned back and clocked Marc stood less than a foot away from him.
"Hey Marc-" Carlos began to speak when he saw the deep etches in his friend's forehead and the dark look in his eyes and knew that something was wrong.

But before Carlos could do anything Marc had reached down, grabbed the man by the scruff and yanked him to his feet. Ignoring the man's grunt of pain Marc wrapped an arm around his throat and held it tight against his windpipe. 
"You're going to tell me where the children are or so help me God," Marc growled into the man's ear. The man grappled at Marc's arm around his throat as it constricted his breathing. Hobbling on a single leg he was weak and Marc's arm simply tightened around his neck like a snake. 

"I- will not say- anything!" The man choked, his face growing a different shade of colour. 

"Oh yes you will," Marc promised as he shoved past Carlos and pushed the horrible excuse of a man towards a door in the corner which he knew led into a smaller ante-room from when they cleared it earlier. 

Carlos, Twitch and Jules did nothing as they looked to each other for a cue on how to proceed. Marcus Langdale did not lose his cool very often but when he did it was something you did not want to get in the middle of. 

"Langdale, stop!" Ridgeway shouted after him in a voice dripping with authority which momentarily gave Jules goosebumps as it sparked a memory of when he would shout at her in that voice, or at least she thought he had. It was hard to tell true memories from fictional ones. 

"Don't worry," Marc called behind him as he pushed the man into the wall face-first whilst he wrenched open the door with his other hand and pushed the man inside before turning to look back at Ridgeway, "I won't kill him." 

"Langdale-" Ridgeway took a step towards him but Carlos and Twitch stepped together to block his path. Ridgeway watched over their shoulders as Marc slammed the door shut and in the silence they heard a lock click behind the door. 

Ridgeway looked at Carlos and Twitch before he turned his head slowly and regarded Jules. Without breaking eye contact with Ridgeway Jules walked over to the side of the room, leaned against the edge of a metal desk and rested the two rifles across her lap in defiance. 

Ridgeway's cheeks puffed in anger as his eyes blazed with resentment at the insubordination happening in front of him. "For your sake," Ridgeway pointed a grubby finger in Jules's direction, "you better'd hope that he doesn't kill him." 

Jules shared looks with Carlos and Twitch but remained silent as they turned to look at the door and all she could think was that she had never seen that crazed look in Marc's eyes before. She did not know whether to be reassured, that he truly cared, or scared. She guessed only time would tell but if the terrorist's words were right then they did not have long to waste. 

* * * 

The light was fading fast, casting long shadows across the room as it did so. They stretched from the gap in the wall and across the floor as they were reaching for something. As Julia followed them with her gaze she paused when she saw the blood stain on the ground, coagulating with the granules of sand and dust that covered the floor. As she stared at it, her eyes growing unfocused, the silent air was broken by yet another tortured scream coming from next door. 

The children behind her looked up and whimpered in surprise towards where the sound had come from but they soon turned back to their own little group, whilst Ridgeway shot her another look from across the room. He did not say anything but he did not mean to. Jules knew that he was holding her responsible for everything Marc did in that room and if he killed Ridgeway's prisoner then he would be coming after Jules's head for it. But right then she did not care as another, less high pitched, scream drifted through the cracked walls towards them directly followed by a dull thump. Jules's mind was running at full speed as she tried to imagine what Marc was doing to him in there. Her eyes looked back at the blood on the ground from where she had shot the man and she wondered if he was bleeding in there too. 

Not sure how long they had been waiting - it could have been ten minutes or an hour -Jules began to hear mutterings from across the room. Looking up from under her lashes she saw Ridgeway's tactical team talking quietly and quickly amongst themselves. 

Carlos spotted it too. "What was that?"

The four black-clad soldiers looked across at him. 

"Come on now, don't be shy," Carlos took a step towards them and waved them forward, his rifle hanging low by his hip, "Share what you had to say with the rest of the class," Carlos made a sweeping motion with his arm. Julia had a flashback of secondary school when she and Catherine Patterson were called to the front of the room after chatting in class. 

The four operatives looked amongst themselves, trying to judge who would be the first to stand up. When Carlos encouraged them on further Julia was surprised when a man from the back stepped forward. Dressed in the same black tactical clothing, he was almost a full head shorter than the rest with dusty brown hair and thick eyebrows. He was not who Jules would have expected to voluntarily elect himself as the leader of the group, mainly because he hadn't spoken a word since they had met. 

"Yes, what is it?" Carlos asked, clasping his hands in front of him as Jules watched from the sidelines. 

The man's blue eyes flickered across to the door which Marc had led the prisoner through and subsequently locked behind him, "They've been in there for over thirty minutes." 

"And?" Twitch shrugged as he crossed his arms over his chest, "How long do you think torture usually lasts? That you can just punch them once and they'll give up what you want to know?" 

The man rolled his eyes at Twitch, "Perhaps it is time we thought of a different approach," He said, his accent suggesting that he was from the south of London, "If he's right then we haven't got much time before his mates show up and even if he's not there is still a major terrorist threat to London which needs to be neutralised." 

"You think we don't know that," Twitch exclaimed in anger at the suggestion that they were leaving their country defenceless, "Why do you think he's in there?" 

"I think he's trying to save his own ass," One of the other men nonchalantly said from the back, his profile stood side on to the others as if he was somehow above the rest of them. 

"You what-" Carlos bristled, his nostrils flaring as he took a step towards the man that had said it. The other operatives did not move to flank their team mate but rather the opposite and Carlos could not help but think at the lack of loyalty between them, when a voice stopped him. 

"It doesn't matter what the terrorist tells your man in that room," A female figure stepped from behind Ridgeway's team and to the front until she was stood in plain sight in front of them all. Carlos glared at the black-haired man that had made the remark but listened to the woman speak. He had noticed her in the background but his thoughts had been occupied by the terrorist to take much notice of her with her mousy brown hair and slim figure, but now that he had the time to study her he noticed that there was a certain stubbornness to the way she held herself, it was something in her shoulders he thought. 

"And why's that?" Jules asked from across the room causing everyone to turn and look at her. Jules kept her gaze on the spook. 

Samantha MacAndrew cleared her throat and began to speak as if she was in a meeting and the intelligence she had uncovered was being questioned, "Because torture has been found to be inefficient. Those being tortured will say anything, whether its truthful or not, just to get it to stop. So whatever the man is or isn't saying in that room, it probably isn't even the truth." Samantha looked around at their blank faces, "Studies have proven it." She added, trying to add weight to her words but she was still receiving blank expressions from everyone. 

"I'm sorry," Carlos's eyebrows furrowed into a deep frown as he looked around the room at everyone and seeing their calm expressions before he turned back to the woman, "But who are you?" Had he missed some big announcement? He looked back at Jules who began to open her lips to speak when the other woman filled in the gaps for him.

"My name is Samantha MacAndrew," She sighed, why not let everyone know who she is she's doing a stellar job of keeping it a secret so far, "I work for the government." 

"You're a spy," Twitch clarified. 

"No," Samantha held a hand up, "I'm an intelligence officer." 

Twitch and Carlos looked at each other before repeating in unison, "Spy."

"What, no-" Samantha began to speak when a loud crash came from next door and everyone went silent. Soft mewls and thuds had been coming periodically from the small adjoining room that they barely noticed it anymore but the recent, far louder, noises made them all pause. Marc had ramped up the torture and Jules thought of the trials she had heard soldiers being put on back home for things like this. She rose to her feet, wanting to protect Marc but she also knew that without the information that man has they may never find Safia. 

The others looked to her, wondering what she would do, when a different noise drifted into the room through the large gap in the outer wall. It started as a soft rumble before it grew louder and she heard the clicks and bangs of car engines. 

Converging on the gap in the wall everyone looked out towards the horizon where a gap in the hills left a wide strip of land running through it on which a convoy of nearly half a dozen trucks were driving at speed towards them, kicking up a sand storm behind them until it appeared as if they were about to be engulfed by a tornado of sand. As they grew closer they heard the popping of gunfire and they ducked down for cover until they realised that no bullets were hitting the area surrounding them. Looking back over the top of the rubble Jules saw that men in the back of the trucks were pointing their weapons up into the sky rather than directly towards them. 

As they watched the approaching militant terrorists Jules heard the clicking of rifles beside her as they were checked for ammo and turned out towards the convoy. She turned and looked at the four rifles poised in the arms of Ridgeway's tactical team and the single handgun in Ridgeway's hand. 

"Do- not- shoot!"Jules shouted over the cries and gunfire of the terrorists. 

"Are you kidding!?" Samantha, knelt behind the female operative and the black-haired one, stared at Jules as if she were crazy. 

"No," Jules turned her before addressing the others, "The four missing children could be with them! Do not shoot!" She waited until she had the nods from each of the operatives, making sure they understood her, before she looked back at their new predicament and realised that the trucks were slowing to a stop a couple hundred of yards away from them. A few gunshots went off into the sky but soon the shouting in their native tongue died down until a deathly silence existed between them. 

For minutes neither side did nothing.

"What are they waiting for?" Twitch whispered beside her as everyone watched the row of trucks parked in front of them like a barrier, preventing them from leaving. Jules looked from the two flatbed trucks which were fitted with automatic machine guns and being manned by 2 men each to the four door trucks whose windows were covered in dust that she couldn't see inside. The doors to the trucks remained shut and no one stepped out. 

"Now what?" Someone asked. 

"Now we wait and come up with a strategy. Ridgeway," Jules looked down the line at him at the other far end.

"Yes?" 

"Who's your best sniper?" Jules asked and for a moment his gaze remained on her as the corner of his lips tilted upwards. She did not know what to do when the expression on his face was wiped clean and he stated, "Cromwell. He's your best shot." 

The black-haired man turned his head towards her and gave a small wave. Jules resisted rolling her eyes at him but instead smiled, "Good. Because I need you to go and circle around the back of them." 

"Got it," Cromwell ducked his head a little and peered out across the hill tops that surrounded them before he picked a spot far off into the distance, "ETA . . . twenty minutes?" He guessed judging the distance. 

"Make it ten," Jules told him to which Cromwell gave a small salute, packed up his rifle and turned to leave the room, exiting through the way they had come in. 

"Cromwell," Ridgeway called out, "Take MacAndrew with you." 

"What?" Samantha looked up, "I'm staying here." 

"I don't need London on my back asking why I got their intelligence officer killed," Ridgeway barked, "Now live up to your job title and go with him. Cromwell will keep you safe." 

Samantha clenched her jaw shut, "What about the children?" 

"Twenty-odd kids traipsing across the hilltops might just gain the terrorists attention," Ridgeway raised his eyebrows, "Cromwell, get her out of here." 

"Yes sir," Cromwell reached down and wrapped his hand around Samantha's upper arm, pulling her to her feet and guiding her from the room.

"I can walk myself," Carlos heard Samantha snap as she tugged her arm free from Cromwell's grasp and they disappeared out of the door and down the corridor. 

"But they can't stay here!" Jasmine protested watching the other two leave whilst they remained behind, her arms wrapped around as many children as she could. 

"She's right," Jules interrupted Ridgeway before he started to speak again, "They can't stay here. This will be the first place the terrorists will target and our job was to get them out safely." 

"Outside they'll be sitting ducks," Ridgeway told her whilst their real mission hung unspoken between them. Their real mission was to get Jasmine, the prime minister's niece, out safely. But Julia wasn't about to leave over twenty children to perish. 

"Their best shot is to-" Ridgeway started to speak when the door behind them slammed shut and they turned to see Cromwell and MacAndrew returning, "What are you doing back here?" Ridgeway snapped. 

"It seems they had the same idea," Cromwell panted as he placed his hands on his hips, "We're trapped." 

Jules felt her stomach twist a little as she looked back out at the trucks, wondering what her next step was going to be, when the passenger side door of the middle truck swung open and a man in a deep red tunic with black patterns and a matching turban stepped out. In her peripheral vision Jules saw some of the rifles slowly tip upwards as they aimed for the centre of the man's chest. But she could not drag her gaze away from the man with his long dark brown scraggly beard, she couldn't see his eyes but she somehow knew they would be the same colour, when he turned and reached back into the truck for something. 
A moment later she saw a second pair of feet in the gap underneath the truck door and her breath caught in her throat when she noticed how considerably smaller they were from his and she knew. 
She knew before he even stepped out from behind the truck door with her, before he even turned her to face the compound, who it would be but when it happened it was still a shock and Jules still felt her heart drop into her stomach. 

"Safia," Jules closed her eyes.