12 Minutes (#2 in Military series)

Chapter 8

Marc reached into his pocket and pulled out the photo of Safia. Holding Lucille's hand open, Marc thrust the picture into it.

"That's why I'm doing this!" He exclaimed, pointing to the photograph, "She is the reason why I need you to do this for us."

Lucille swallowed around the lump in her throat and looked at the photograph, "Who is this?"

Marc took a deep breath, "Her name is Safia. Jules and I rescued her in Afghanistan and we learnt the other day that the orphanage she was at had been attacked. She and twenty five other children have been kidnapped."

Lucille reached up and rubbed a hand over her face, "Marc, I'm sorry, but I don't-"

"Come here, listen to me," Marc drew her back over to the sofas, away from anyone listening.

Lucille followed because she had never seen Marc so stressed.

"You can't tell anyone but one of the adults that were taken with the children is related to someone very highly ranked over here in the UK," Marc whispered.

"Then surely the intelligence services will be-"

"-They are but they've failed numerous times and we're running out of time. Luce, if these people find out who this person is related to over here . . ." Marc reached across and gripped her hands, "We need your help."

Marc could tell that she was on the edge of accepting. He needed to tread carefully.

"Lucille," Marc murmured, squeezing her hands softly, "Please."

Luce looked down at the photo still in her hand and she could tell that the girl looked terrified. If Marc and Jules had already saved her once, what must it have felt like to be taken once again?

She looked back over her shoulder at the cargo plane. She had joined the RAF to help people and fly fighter jets.

"Okay, I'll do it," Lucille handed him the photograph back.

"Thank you, Lu-"

"-Don't thank me yet," Lucille leaned forward, careful to keep her voice down, "I can't land in Afghanistan. You'll have to-" Lucille's feet tapped on the floor slightly and she looked away, reluctant to tell him.

"What? We'll have to what?"

Lucille looked him straight in the eye, "You'll have to parachute jump in."

"Parachute jump," Marc repeated, "Into Afghanistan?"

"We drop humanitarian aid from the sky and then come straight back here to land," Lucille explained, "We don't actually touch foreign ground on our missions."

"Captain Whitmore!" Someone shouted from behind them, "You coming or not?"

"I'll be there in a minute!" Lucille shouted back before turning around.

"I can get you close to the Afghan border but after that you're gonna have to jump," Lucille told him.

Marc nodded, "Okay, okay, we'll jump. When?"

"The next humanitarian flight in that region is tomorrow night. We depart at 19.00."

"Captain!?"

"Alright!" Lucille called back and got to her feet, "Marc, I can't delay the flight so you'll have to make sure you're here on time."

"Don't worry," Marc got to his feet and shook her hand, "We'll be here."

As he watched her leave, a small sense of relief washed over him before he stopped it. This was only a foothold into their mission, there was still too much that could go wrong.