12 Minutes (#2 in Military series)

Chapter 28

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.