12 Minutes (#2 in Military series)

Chapter 30

"-Hey," Strong interrupted and arched an eyebrow at the techie when he turned to look at him over his shoulder, hinting for him to get to the point.

"Oh, right, sorry. I found a pilot sitting on his heels on an airstrip near to Afghanistan, sir. And he has a fighter jet fully loaded with ammo."

Truro frowned at Strong, "You want to send in an air strike? I thought you were against that!"

"An air strike, yes," Strong nodded, "But a precision shooter, now that I am totally for. How fast can he get there?"

"He's on standby. He could be there in twenty minutes?"

"Make it ten and patch me through to him, I want to make sure he understands his orders," Strong patted him on the shoulder as the techie nodded and got back to work, "Well done."

"Thank you sir," He replied as he started to type into the computer and Truro started to walk away as his phone rang.

"Hey, out of curiosity," Strong leaned back towards the young man, "How much of what you just did was illegal?"

The corner of his lips tilted downward as he gave Strong a sheepish look, "You may not want to know that sir."

"Plausible deniability, got ya," Strong gave him a thumbs up when he turned and looked at the large screen at the front of the room where the drone footage of Afghanistan was still playing. Strong stared at the infrared blips that were his team. "Hang in there," Strong whispered, "We're coming for you."

* * *

By now the sun had fully descended behind the horizon and the temperatures were dropping drastically as the men stood around the jeeps reached into their vehicles and switched on the headlights. Parked in an arc the jeeps were all facing towards them in the centre when the lights came on and bathed them all in the pale yellow light. Jules's eyes scrunched a little at the sudden brightness before she refocused on Abbas. The yellow light made his face look sunken and old, illuminating the beads of sweat on his forehead that had nothing to do with the temperature. Silence covered them like a blanket, only their breathing and the occasional adjustment of a rifle in a nervous pair of hands had been heard as night fell. No sound came from the building behind her or her team.

"It is nightfall," Abbas rasped as he looked around them as if searching for the bogeyman in the shadows but when he saw nothing was there his lips tilted upward in a smirk and his voice regained some confidence as he asked, almost tauntingly, "Where are your men then?"

Jules's arms were being to feel as heavy as lead as she tried to keep them raised and the gun trained on Abbas but her muscles started to protest in agony. The pain shifted to the back of her mind though as she flickered her gaze a few inches to the right and saw Marc. The blade was still at his throat but Abbas was not pulling him backwards anymore meaning that his feet were firmly on the ground with his arms out to the side. His eyes watched her closely with a hooded expression she couldn't read.

"They'll be here," Jules reassured him, guessing that the look on his face was nerves, as she readjusted her grip on the handgun and turned back to Abbas, "Don't worry."

The smile on Abbas's face vanished and he jerked the machete at Marc's throat making her heart palpitate and Marc's eyes to squeeze shut for a moment, "Perhaps I should just kill him now, yes?"

Jules shuffled forward a step in haste. "You do that Abbas and you're good as dead," She was quick to remind him, her eyes boring into Abbas's so that there was no mistaking her commitment to follow through. She would pull that trigger if he so much as gave her husband a small cut.