LEO
============
08/02/2003
Panay, The Philippines
Passi City
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If all goes to plan, I'll be a dead man this time tomorrow.

My head will probably be brandished on that grainy videocamera, the footage sent straight to North and the rest of the group.

I glance down at my hand. It's completely bashed, completely fucking useless. Maybe I was an idiot to try and catch Jed off guard. After all, and as much as I hate to admit it, I am at a severe disadvantage in my position.

There isn't a whole lot a man can do; chained to a pipe and probably presumed dead.

The sands of time are still falling in the back of my brain, each grain pulling me a moment closer to my execution.

I'm praying that Nova didn't suffer. I hope that her death was quick, quick enough that she didn't feel it. I wish she hadn't died at all. It hurts knowing that her existence is nothing but memories of the past from now on.

I never got to give her Smith & Wesson back to her. I'd planned to when I heard her talking about it in the mess hall that night, right before all hell broke loose.

I don't even have a picture of her.

Of all people, she did not deserve to die. If I somehow find a way to break loose before tomorrow, I'll blast a bullet right through Jed Nolan's brain.

That bastard will not get away with taking her life.

—

"Get up," Jed orders, storming into the room as I glance upwards.

"I can't, I'm cuffed to a pipe." I mutter, rattling the chains with raised eyebrows.

He snarls, hissing something under his breath as he grips my wrists, roughly yanking them once they're unlocked.

He's decided to bring one of his friends along with him to help restrain me. 'Prick obviously knows that I can overpower him with ease when I'm unchained.

I guess that's one benefit of being 6'4, especially with years of training on my back.

His personal assistant grips one of my arms as Jed follows suit with the other, shoving a bag over my head and starting to lead me out of the room. We make the same turns that I've mapped out from whenever I've been allowed to go take a piss, only we go further than usual.

I can hear voices. I shake my head to try and loosen the bag, desperate to hear some more, although it's useless since it's wrapped right around my face.

Maybe I'll just die of suffocation, save me the beheading. Maybe if I just take off into a sprint, I'll 'accidentally' topple out of a window at the end of the hall.

The creak of a door handle breaks my plans as I'm shoved forward into the new room, right towards the floor, and dragged sideways despite my resistance. Jed rips the bag from over my head, as well as a few tufts of hair, and his adversary working on securing me to a new pipe.

I'm not alone in this new room, I'm far from it.

My gaze travels, meeting the confused and shocked gazes of the other occupants. They all appear to be in a worse state than I am; completely thinned to the bones, the contours of their faces unhealthily visible.

Not to mention they all look fucking terrified.

The hostages, this must be them.

"Thought we'd stick you in the group pit for your last supper," Jed taunts, pulling my chains to make sure they're secure.

"Generous," I utter sarcastically, earning a hideous chuckle from Jed and his ally.

"Enjoy, Hendrix," He grins, pushing himself up to his feet and striding out of the room, his little friend following in his footsteps.

Fucking bastard. I'll behead him if I get the damn chance. I'll slit his throat, just like he did to Nova.

Nova.

My gaze casts around the room once again. Most hostages are chained up to beams, or to metal bars that seem to have been purposefully placed. One person in particular catches my eye.

Abe?

The terrorist we caught the day of the hijack. The fuck is he doing in here?

"Abe!" I yell out to him, his head lazily spinning to meet my eyes. He raises his eyebrows as he recognises me.

"You're the man from the group," He speaks in his usual broken English, trying to lean forward and analyse me.

"Why are you in here? I thought you worked alongside these bastards?" I ask, narrowing my eyes in suspicion.

Everyone else in the room is completely silent, all just gazing off at nothing in particular.

"I did, but Jed told them that I exposed him. The day he poisoned the woman, the woman who fed me. Nora."

Makes sense.

I don't like hearing her come up in conversation.

"Nova. Her name was Nova, not Nora." I mumble, twisting my aching hand behind my back.

"Was?" Abe tilts his head.

"Jed killed her," I hiss after a few seconds, clenching my fist in anger despite the pain. Abe's expression is hard to read. If I'm not fooled, I'd even say he looks disappointed.

He nods slowly, glancing away.

"Where did you come from?"

A female, American accent rings out into the newfound silence after a moment, catching my attention.

I'm met with the gaze of a woman. She is chained near a man, as well as a boy. The boy, who I'm guessing is their son considering he resembles them both through his features, black hair and deep brown eyes, only looks to be a teenager.

This must be the youngest hostage that was mentioned.

He looks terrified.

"The military," I lie. Even on my deathbed, I plan on keeping Fleetwood as covert as possible.

The lady actually gains a hopeful expression on her face, shooting a reassuring glance to her presumed husband before looking back at me.

"Are they coming here?" The man asks inquisitively. Lots of the other hostages have turned to listen in on our conversation.

"Hopefully," I murmur. I don't want to get the hopes of these people up, for them to get beheaded at the end of it anyway.

There is a short silence before the lady speaks up,

"I'm Divya, this is my husband Rohit and our son, Ali." She gestures to both of them with her head, offering me a small smile afterwards.

Honestly? Hats off to this woman for being able to have the effort for introductions in this situation. She's more enthusiastic than I can be, and she's been stuck here a whole lot longer.

"Leo, pleasure's mine." I speak as politely as possible, giving a small nod and leaning my head back against the pipe.

I feel Ali's gaze burning into me curiously, as though he's fascinated because I said I'm from the army.

"I hope you don't mind my asking, but how did you all get captured?" I ask after a few seconds, leaning forward again.

It's something that was never answered for us.

"It was a coordinated trip. A tourist trip available to take to the Philippines. It was going well, until one day our coach got hijacked and we got brought here. We're so confused, we haven't been given any answers as to why we're being held. Not to mention the fact we're terrified." Another man explains from a different point in the room, hesitancy laced in his voice.

My attention then turns to Abe. If anybody here has answers as to why this whole thing is happening, it's him.

Maybe now he's part of the hostages, he'll just give up and talk.

"If you're ever going to say anything, now is the time. You can redeem for the things you've done in some way, Abe." I sigh, attempting to come across as non-threatening and calm.

He fidgets his chained feet.

Abs isn't old, I'd even say he's only about twenty. He's most likely been raised into this life, become a product of his environment. It doesn't excuse the things he's done, but maybe deep down there's a part of him that doesn't completely agree with Altashih.

It's wishful thinking that he'll spill up, but it's better than nothing.

"I suppose what else is to 'lose?" He mumbles after a few seconds, taking a big inhale.

Shit, he's actually going to talk.

Everyone seems eager to hear what he has to say, all leaning forward as much as the chains allow.

"It formed in 1977, 'just after end of Vietnam conflict. Was only a small group to begin. Formed by people who lost somebody as a result of special operations in the US. Years went by, more members recruited. Want revenge. Stationed in the Philippines in 1990, want to overthrow the government since they're an ally to the US. Also the idea of one of the leader', he is half Filipino." He explains, some parts difficult to pick up with his broken English.

"So the whole organisation is just a damn act of retaliation? Do they not realise that the special op groups will only attack against those who are threats?" I raise my eyebrows, shaking my head in disbelief.

Abe nods slightly.

"You said about a leader, who is that?" I tilt my head. Everybody seems to be letting me do the questioning.

"Las," he states.

So the main executor is also a leader? That isn't common.

"What can you tell me about Las?" I ask.

"He's been a leader since he was young, similar age to me. From Tennessee, I've heard. He had 'messy childhood. Mother commit suicide, blamed his Father who had served in the military. This is all 'rumour, I am not sure how true this is." He informs. He really isn't holding back anymore.

All of this is completely fascinating to me.

And oddly familiar, as though I've heard it before.

Abe goes to open his mouth again, but the door swings open right on cue. Las is stood dauntingly in the doorway, machete in hand and a sinister expression plastered across his uncovered face.

"Decided to have a talk about me, Abe?" He speaks menacingly with his Southern drawl. I glance at Abe, who looks absolutely terrified.

Las gestures for two of his men to go and untie him.

He's about to be led to his death.

Abe starts crying out, shaking his head and trying to resist their strength. They manage to yank him up to his feet.

He just gave me more information in five minutes than I've gotten in the weeks of this operation.

"Stop it, don't kill him." I hiss, causing Las to glance at me with raised eyebrows and an amused expression.

"Ah, because he's spoken to you, you don't want him dead anymore? Classic," he chuckles, shaking his head and continuing to drag Abe from the room, who is still kicking and screaming.

"You're a bunch of cowards, the lot of you. You're killing people behind a fucking camera, protected through a screen." I seethe, wringing my hands in the chains despite the fractures to one of them.

Las doesn't seem phased at all by my words, he shrugs nonchalantly after a few seconds.

"Say what you want, doesn't change anything." He states before continuing to have Abe led out of the room.

After a few more steps, Abe's cries are muffled by the door slamming shut as they disappear onto the other side.

Divya is crying, her son Ali has eyes like saucers. I guess the machete is a terrifying sight to see, especially for a teenager.

He doesn't deserve this. None of these people do.

I wish I could give up my identity and promise that I'll get them out of here alive, but I shouldn't make promises I can't definitely keep.

"I'm getting executed tomorrow," I blurt out, horrified faces turning to stare at me the second the words leave my mouth.

"How do you know that?" A man asks, nervousness filling his features.

"They told me. So generous of them," I mumble, shrugging slightly.

Divya immediately starts humming something under her breath, her eyes closed as her face angles downwards. I think she's praying.

Ali gazes at me with a terrified expression. His childish stare is familiar to me, his expression somewhat resembles Jaques'. The big, innocent brown eyes.

"I hope they do not kill you," he whispers after a few second, hanging his head low in respect.

To be honest, I'd rather I be killed than a petrified, teenage boy who is with his family.

"Yeah, me too." I murmur, shrugging slightly.

The atmosphere around us almost vibrates with how charged the tension is, everyone perched on the edge of their nerves.

I groan and lean my head back against the pipe. I'd like to get a final few hours of sleep by choice, before I'm plunged into the slumber of death against my will.

Nobody interrupts me, I guess everybody plans on letting me have a few hours of peace.

—

"Here, I went out and found this." I say quietly, handing her the small, poorly wrapped package.

She gives me a confused gaze with those green eyes before taking it off me, reading the note. As soon as she's read the note, it's unwrapped within in a second.

"Oh my God, you got my pistol back?" She exclaims, smile spreading across her face.

"Yeah, I thought it was the least I could do after you nearly died." I chuckle awkwardly, standing up.

She admires it in her hands for a few seconds before pushing herself to her own feet and suddenly pressing herself against me. Her head presses right into the centre of my chest, arms stretching around my back as far as they will go.

It feels comforting. I've not hugged anybody like this in a long time.

After a few seconds, I wrap my arms around her; pulling her closer and resting my chin on the top of her smooth dark hair.

I don't want this to end.

—

It does end, because I wake up.

None of that could have happened because Nova got killed before I got the chance to give her gun back to her.

I blink a few times as I come back to my senses, noticing most of the others have surprisingly fallen asleep; only shown through the soft snores echoing from wall to wall.

The room is dark, the small window offering nothing but the inky sky from outside, speckled with a few distant stars.

I wonder what time it is?

And I wonder how many hours I have left until I might become one of those stars.