12 Minutes (#2 in Military series)

Prologue

Prologue

MI5 Headquarters. London, United Kingdom.

The file that would change everything arrived on Samantha McAndrew's desk at precisely ten minutes to five that evening.

Prolonging her departure for home, Samantha sat back down behind her desk and pulled the file towards her, noting the small amount of paper which rested inside it.

Stealing a glance out of the window to her left, Samantha could see that dusk had started to fall and she saw a stream of headlights as other employees left for the evening. Still jet-lagged, Samantha felt a long yearning for her bed.

Alas, her love of the job and the block red letters of 'TOP SECRET' stamped across the front of the folder pulled Samantha's thoughts back into her office, a medium sized room with magnolia painted walls and a fern in the corner next to the door.

She lingered on the words 'TOP SECRET' for a few seconds with mixed feelings. On the one hand a small amount of adrenaline coursed through her body and her fingertips began to drum softly against the side of her desk.

She had seen those words plenty of times in her line of work, but they still managed to send a small shiver of exhilaration down her spine. Here was information that had been deemed too important for people to see and yet she was about to read it.

The danger certainly wasn't lost on her and that, Samantha knew as she pulled her shoulder-length mousy blonde hair back into a bun, was part of why she loved the job.

On the other hand, any file with the word 'TOP SECRET' atop of it meant a long night ahead for her.

Unable to put it off any longer, she reached out a hand in desperate need of a manicure and opened the file. Her initial thought was to confirm what she had already guessed, that there was little to no information within the folder

Shifting through the pieces of paper, Samantha lifted a random statement up and saw that the nearly the entire page, apart from a few words near the top, had been black out. Redacted.

Samantha arched an eyebrow.

The size of the job was quickly becoming apparent as all the other statements she found were all in the same condition as the first.

Placing the statements to the side, a hurdle to be tackled later, Samantha reached for something that looked like a photograph but when she pulled it out she saw that it was an aerial shot of a small cluster of buildings.

From her expertise, Samantha pinned it down to somewhere in the Middle East, most probably Afghanistan.

She stared at it for a few minutes but when it could give her nothing more she too put that aside and dug deeper.

She did not have to look for too long before she found a sheet of paper which held not one photograph, but five.

The paper seemed to be of a different calibre to the rest, which had all been censored, and the names beneath the photographs had not been redacted.

Samantha felt her heartbeat pick up in pace at the first real solid piece of information.

The phrase 'a photo can tell a thousand words' popped into her mind as she studied the photos.

All five images were identification photos of military individuals.

The first four photos were of men of equal description. Close-shaved heads and crew-cuts leapt out of the photo at her.

However, Samantha's interest was piqued by the fifth and final photograph as it was of a woman. Her eyes were as steadfast and true as the other four and her face revealed no secrets. In the black and white photo, Samantha could tell that she was most likely blonde.

Tearing her eyes from the photo, Samantha read what was typed beneath it.

'"SGT JULIA REYNOLDS. SPECIAL TASK FORCE 1 OPERATIVE"'

Samantha read the other names beside her; Ramirez, Jackson and Evans.

However her heart started to pound like a racehorse as she focused on the final photograph on the sheet of paper.

Glancing at the name, Samantha realised that she had met the man earlier that very same day. He had flown over from the States for a meeting with British Intelligence.

'GENERAL RIDGEWAY. SPECIAL TASK FORCE 1 C.O'

Leaning back in her office chair, Samantha ran a hand across her mouth as she looked back out of the window.

The car park was almost entirely deserted by this point and the only vehicles that remained were of those either working the night shift, security guards or employees who, to use her partner's choice of words, were "obsessed" and did not know when to put a job down.

Samantha could almost see them at home waiting for her. They hadn't had a chance to speak the night before, and they would not get a chance to speak tonight either.

Dialling home, Samantha left a message saying she would be late before she left to fetch herself a strong cup of coffee. She was going to need it.