Chapter 28

Every pair of eyes in the control room were glued to the screen as they watched Marcus Langdale lead someone, who they presumed to be a hostage, out towards the group of trucks in what appeared to be an exchange. They could see a young girl stood near to Muhammad Abbas and Strong feared that it was Safia. There was no audio for anyone to listen to but still everyone remained deadly silent until you could hear a pin drop.

Strong watched his valued team member walk straight towards the terrorist that had captured him a few years back and he could not imagine what he was thinking. If Strong had known that Abbas was behind this then he would not have sent Marc in the first place, or Jules considering how she handled the situation last time. He was still getting paperwork through regarding that shambles of an operation.

As Marc came to a stop a few feet in front of Muhammad Abbas, the man responsible for so many deaths and who had been on their top ten most wanted, an alarm on a computer terminal near to them began to sound, abruptly shocking everyone out of their stupor. The woman stationed at the terminal looked down towards the screen to read the message. Strong could see her lips moving as she read the words before they parted and her eyes widened in shock.
A moment later another computer alarm began to sound and then another, and another, until the entire control room felt like one large air raid warning.

Storming over to the nearest computer screen, Truro and Strong read over someone's shoulder and what they read made it feel as if the floor had given way beneath their feet.
Looking back up at the drone footage displayed on the wall-to-wall screen in front of them Strong could see Marc talking to Abbas.
Whilst halfway around the world back in London, a bomb had just been detonated.

* * *

With every step Marc took he could feel his heart thumping against his ribcage and he suddenly became very aware of how dry his mouth was. His hand was clasping the man's shoulder as he guided him across the couple of hundred yards between the compound and the fleet of vehicles that surrounded them.
As they grew closer Marc saw the other Taliban fighters stood up in the back of the trucks with rifles slung across their shoulders and automatic weapons resting on the truck roofs; some were aiming at the compound whilst others were pointed towards himself but Marc just watched Abbas. Marc had endured seemingly endless nights of torture at the hands of this monster and as a result his face had become ingrained into his memory. So it was a shock that when they drew within feet of each other Marc saw that he had aged. He had gained weight and his skin appeared waxy, but his almond shaped dark eyes, crooked nose and thin lips were still the same along with the pretentious, self-righteous way he held himself.

Beads of sweat travelled down Marc's back as he and Abbas stared at each other and flashes of Abbas stood over him in a dark, confined room momentarily obscured his vision. Blinking away the images Marc shifted his boots in the sand as he turned and looked at Safia. The feelings that plagued him and made his body feel constricted loosened and he found himself smiling at her.

"Hi Safia," Marc gave a small wave with his fingers, "Do you remember me?"

Safia's thick brows furrowed a little in the middle as she frowned up at him before Abbas's hand returned to her shoulder and she looked away.

Clenching his jaw as he saw the way Abbas touched her and remembering how he had used those same knuckles on him, Marc returned to face Abbas.
"Let her and the others go," Marc said, "You've got me and your little terrorist back." Marc shoved the man hard and he limped forward a step.

Abbas looked across at his disciple, his eyes noting the blood on his trouser leg, before he asked him something in his native tongue.

"Hey, hey!" Marc snapped making Abbas look at him in anger from the corner of his eye, "You don't get to speak to him until you let the others go. That was the deal." Marc reminded him.

"Why the bag on his head?" Abbas asked in his heavy accent as he squinted at the bag.

"It was a precaution," Marc replied before he added, "That and we couldn't stand to look at his face any longer."

Glaring at him Abbas turned and said something to his comrades behind him in his native tongue when two men began to step forward to take the man away.

"No," Marc reached out and grabbed the man's shoulder to drag him back behind him, "Let Safia and the others go first."

The two Taliban fighters paused beside Abbas, waiting for orders, whilst he stared at Marc for a few long moments. Eventually he raised his hand and the two men stepped back like well trained dogs. Marc removed his hand from the man's shoulder to show his cooperation but he kept him close behind him within his peripheral vision.

"What," Abbas began to speak, slowly as he tried to find the right words, "makes you think that Safia and the others want to leave me?"

Marc frowned a little, not sure what he was implying, before he looked down at Safia and saw her head bowed, her eyes glued to the ground and Abbas's hand gently touching her shoulder. He wasn't gripping her, forcing her to stay. She could quite easily slip away from how loose he was holding her but she remained there, but that did not mean anything Marc knew. He could be holding her in multiple different ways including psychologically.

"Safia?" Marc crouched in front of her as he tried to look up at her face but she turned away and it felt like a kick to the chest, "Safia? You remember me, don't you? You write to my wife and me." He felt uncomfortable mentioning Jules in front of Abbas, worried he may hurt her, but he needed to get through to Safia. "I'm here for you Safia."

Something he must have said caught her interest because she raised her head and looked at him and he saw how terrified she looked and it ripped his heart to see those large onyx eyes glittering with unshed tears. But then she shook her head and took a step towards Abbas like a child hiding under their father's arm to protect them.

"Safia?" Marc whispered in shock, "Safia, it's me. Marc. Marc and Julia; we saved you a few years back from these same people."

"These people are my people," Safia looked to Abbas for approval as she said it in a quiet, timid voice but Marc knew that someone had put those words in her mouth.

"No, Safia," Marc shook his head as he shuffled a little closer and stretched out his hand but Safia flinched away from him, "No, they're not. We're your people. Do you remember Julia?" He looked at her earnest. Safia gave the tiniest nod but it fuelled Marc's hope. "Yes, Julia. She misses your letters terribly and we were both worried about you."

"But- But you not wrote back," Safia whimpered in broken English, confused, "You left me."

"No," Marc shook his head as he heard the pain and confusion in her voice, "We did write back. We did."

"You left and- and Abbas . . . he come to orphanage and show me what true family is," Safia looked up at Abbas, whose hand had grown tight on her shoulder, "Yes, Abbas?"

Marc stared up at the man that had hurt him and saw the tight smile pulling in the corner of his lips as he began to hurt someone else.

"Yes, Saffy," Abbas replied and Marc gritted his teeth because that was the nickname he would use but Abbas had now ruined that for him too.

"No, Safia," Marc reached out and took her hand, not caring that all the rifles were all aiming at his head, "This is not a family. Look around you Safia, look at the guns," Marc noted how small and fragile her hand was in his and he had to resist the urge to squeeze it tighter, "Abbas brought you here, and family does not put you in danger."

The water in Safia's eyes welled up as she stared into the open door of the truck beside her at the driver and saw the end of a gun pointing directly at her. Letting out a scream of fear she turned and dove into Marc's arms, wrapping them tight around his neck as she hid her face in the crook of his neck.

Marc fell onto his knees as he caught her and wrapped his arms around her small frame, raising a hand to cradle her head as he closed his eyes and relief flooded through his chest at feeling her safe and sound in his arms. As he opened his eyes he looked up at Abbas and saw the simmering rage in his eyes.

"Safia?" Marc pulled back a little to look in her face, "Do you see that hole in the wall over there? Yeah?" Safia nodded. "Okay, Jasmine is in there along with some friends of mine. They will keep you safe. I want you to run over there now, okay?"

"No, you will leave again," Safia cried as she buried her face back into the crook of his neck and her fingers clutched at his shoulders.

"No," Marc turned and pressed his lips to her temple in a quick paternal kiss, "No I will never leave you again. But you need to go now, please." It broke his heart to peel her fingers off his shoulders and stand. Turning her in the direction of the compound, Marc whispered in her ear, "Run as fast as you can and don't look back. Go."

Standing so that his body shielded her from at least one of the rifles Marc watched as she darted for the compound, holding his breath the entire time. His hostage, whose head was covered by the sandbag, turned their head an inch as if he was watching also.

When he saw her climb over the rock and slide down the other side into the compound where Carlos was waiting and out of view, Marc knew that he had completed his task. Turning back to face Abbas Marc instructed for the other three children to be released. Abbas raised his hand and the other three children, three emaciated looking boys in torn clothing, climbed out of a truck and stumbled towards them. Marc saw that none of them were wearing any shoes as someone said something to them in their native language and their faces lit up in glee as they ran past Marc towards the building where Safia had just run to. It brought an unbridled joy to him to see them safe and it felt good.

Nodding to himself Marc started to turn back to face Abbas when he heard the sound of boots scuffing in the sand and his instincts flared up but before he could react he felt the barrel end of a rifle hitting the back of his head. Blinding pain encircled enveloped him as he collapsed to the ground and lost his bearings.

He could hear shouting coming from somewhere but it felt as if he was spinning. Raising a hand to his head Marc felt his arms being yanked behind his back as he was dragged a short distance across the warm sand and forced to his knees. Wincing against the acute pain the crippled him, Marc forced his eyes to open and saw that he was now facing the other way. He could see the compound in the distance and the small bobble heads of his team as they shouted out at him but he shook his head. He hoped that they saw it and took it as the signal it was rather than a reaction to the pain.

"Abbas," Marc breathed heavy, "Abbas, don't do this."

"You think I was just going to let you go?" Abbas shouted, "All of you and your little friends shall die!"

Marc swayed forward a little as he tried to get his arms to work but they were now somehow tied behind his back. Squeezing his eyes against the pain he looked around him and saw his once hostage still stood with the bag over his head. Abbas had forgotten about him in his rage.

"Abbas-" Marc started when his head was pulled back and he felt the cold razor edge of a knife pressed into his throat.

"You murdered my son!" Abbas leaned in and spat in his ear, he was so close Marc could feel his untamed beard scratching his throat and it felt like a horde of spiders was crawling over him, "You got away from me once, but not again. Now you will watch all of your friends die and then I will have them drag Safia out and have her shot right in front of you-"

"No," Marc gasped as he stared out across at the others, their heads still poking out over the rubble as they sat and watched. He needed to warn them but he didn't know how. "Jules," He croaked as the blade was dug deeper into his flesh and he felt it begin to give way under the pressure.

"-And then I will kill you too and you will know that you did all of this for nothing. You sacrificed all of your friends for nothing," Abbas chuckled breathlessly in his ear, "Give your wife my regards when you see on the other side. I knew I would get you in the end."