Z-Hour – 3 Days
I sat there staring at the tiny screen as I had those few days ago in the boardroom at Secure365; the image of Becky's screaming face burnt into my brain, a need to commit violence against someone or something burning through my veins.
"Easy there, Blondie," James said quietly his hand gripping my forearm tightly. "Nothing you can do right now but stay with me; don't go punching things again and doing yourself an injury, you don't want to risk the mission by being stupid."
"Take your hand off me, boss," I said casually, trying to push down the boiling rage that was close to consuming me.
"Not a chance, Snowy," he whispered, "not until you get a grip on yourself. Think about Becky; think about Jenna over there, we need to be strong for the both of them."
I closed my eyes for a second, trying to compose myself; taking deep breaths and reaching out for that safe place that Joanna had taught me to find, enveloping myself in my imaginary pool. It was pretty much a fruitless task; every time I tried to dive into that imaginary pool, envelop myself in its calming embrace; I was thwarted by the face of my girl. Not the slightly drunken, slightly smiling face that had preceded our kiss in that summer house, not the face that sucked me into that glowing happy place that Joanna had helped me find, the one where I felt completely loved. No, it was the beaten, sobbing face that intruded on my memories, the one that made my heart shatter into a million pieces.
Giving up on my 'safe place' as a bad idea, I opened my eyes to see that Mel had closed the video, the Secure365 logo on the desktop replacing the sight of the severed head. I felt a hand drop onto my shoulder and turned to see Jenna's stricken face. We didn't say anything, we didn't have to; I could see the pain and relief in her eyes. Her hand squeezed my shoulder tightly and she pulled me into a tight hug, my shoulder dampening under the steady stream of tears.
"You shouldn't have seen that, Jenna," I murmured softly, awkwardly patting her on the back, "you really shouldn't."
"I wish I hadn't now," she sniffed, "but I had to. I had to see it all with my own eyes.... oh, Freen, how can they do such a thing? How on earth can they believe that murdering someone like that will help their cause?"
"The world's full of fuckers like them," I said, remembering something Whitey had said to me once before, "there's always someone to blow smoke up their assholes and tell them how wonderful they are."
"Freen's right, Mrs A," James said from the other side of me. "You've got to remember that these guys live in an isolated environment of extremism; it wouldn't matter to them if every single person in the outside world rose up as one and told them they were wrong. As long as their little crowd of friends sit back and applaud them, the bastards feel justified in what they do."
"But that sounds like every single political and religious group in the world, James," she replied letting go of me and wiping away her tears. "But not all of them murder innocent people with a sword because they disagree with what they do for a living, or how they think, or what they believe."
There wasn't a reply to that, not from me anyway; I'd faced various levels of bigotry and hatred in my time, mostly from the people that supported the bastards with the sword. It was one thing to be jeered at or sneered at by kids at school, called a freak, and a weirdo and a queer, it was quite another to be spat at or stoned by people you don't know just because of the uniform you wore; especially when you thought you were there to help, it was something I don't think I'd ever understand.
"None of this makes any sense," Andy suddenly said from the far side of the room causing everyone to look up at him. "Sorry," he apologized when he realized we were all staring at him, "thinking out loud."
He looked down at the floor, clearly embarrassed at his unintentional comment, but he had piqued my curiosity and I wasn't alone.
"How do you mean, Andrew?" Jenna asked, still sniffing away her tears, "what doesn't make sense? They said they would kill a hostage if I didn't pay them their money and get the prisoners released, and that's exactly what they've done."
"It's the timing," he replied shaking his head. "There's something about the timing that's bugging me."
"Go on," James said encouragingly, "have we missed something?"
"I don't know, boss," Andy replied his brow wrinkling in thought, "there's just something about that video that doesn't make sense to me. I mean, we were talking about the deadline earlier, but it's barely three am UK time."
"Yes, but it's well after their deadline here," Jenna said pointing at the clock, "it's after seven in the morning."
"Even so, it's a long way from here to where we think they are," Andy said causing us all to sit up at his words. "Surely there's no way they could have got Brian's body here in that time, not unless they've got access to a plane or a helicopter or something."
"Jesus, he's right; it really doesn't fit." Mel suddenly said, starting the video again and, to my relief, pausing it at the first frame; the wide shot of the room. "And there's something else as well, look at those windows James spotted earlier. I've just realized, that's sunlight coming through them."
"So what?" James said shaking his head, "I don't get you, Mel."
"I do," I replied with a sudden sense of realization, "the timing is wrong, Andy you're dead right...this isn't a good sign, boss, this isn't a good sign at all."
"Would someone mind explaining this please?" Jenna said, sitting forward on the edge of the sofa and staring at me. "Why is some sunlight in a window not a good sign?"
"Because it means they didn't stick to their timetable, Mrs A," James answered as the penny, presumably, dropped. With a frown of his own, he got up from the sofa and began to pace around the suite again. "I think Andy and Freen are right here, the timing is all wrong...even if they went by local time for the deadline, there's no way they killed Brian at midnight when the deadline elapsed; not if the sun was shining in through those windows; he must have been killed earlier, and there's no telling how early."
"The light might just be external lights, Mr Porter," Chris suggested shyly. "We don't know that it is sunlight."
"The light doesn't fit that, Chris," Mel said quickly, "it looks natural, and I think we'll find that the light levels go up and down...probably as clouds pass the sun. I think they've made another mistake here."
"How is it a mistake?" Jenna asked shaking her head, "Freen, please, I don't understand."
"They had no intention of honoring their deadline," I told her sadly, "if we're right, well, this film was made at the very latest sometime yesterday afternoon. When was the body dumped, Mel?"
"About three o'clock this morning according to our source," Chris answered, "our time that is."
"Then Andy's right, there's no way they could have filmed that, and got the body here in that time if they had stuck to their deadline; the bastards are just fucking with us."
"What does that mean for Becky?" Jenna asked, her voice wavering.
"It doesn't mean anything, Mrs A," James said quickly, trying to reassure her. "We have no idea what this means, but the fact that they killed Brian first means that they must recognize her importance."
"Poor Brian," Jenna continued, "does anyone know if he had a family? I don't know anything about him."
"I think he was divorced, Jenna," I said, racking my brains for anything about him. "I don't remember hearing anything about kids, though."
I felt a little bit guilty not knowing anything about the latest victim of this stupid fucking vendetta. Brian wasn't someone that had popped up on my radar when I'd been at Armstrong Industries, though I suspected that Becky or Bonnie would be able to tell us all about him if they were here. To me he was anonymous, just another body that would be chalked up against my name; another person to haunt my dreams, if I ever managed to get to sleep again.
As we sat in silent communion over the death we had just observed, the grim humanity of the situation coming into sharp focus by Jenna's question, I had a sudden thought.
"Boss?" I said, waiting for him to stop pacing and look across at me. "I think we're going to have to move sooner rather than later. Just because they say they're giving us five days to meet theirdemands doesn't mean they mean it. Judging by this there's no telling when they might hurt Becky."
James nodded, and I knew he was thinking the same thing as I was; there was no guarantee that Becky was even alive still. For all we knew, she was already dead, her beheading already on film and waiting for delivery. It wasn't something I wanted to think about, let alone say; Jenna didn't need that added to her list of troubles, she looked like she was carrying enough.
"I think you're right, Snowy," he replied, "I think it's time we got prepared. How fast can we be ready, Mel?" James asked, turning to face her.
"If you leave for the testing area today? I don't know, James...three days, perhaps four."
"Let's make it three, we'll aim to be at the safe house you've set up day after tomorrow, then we go in as planned. Can you make that happen?"
"We can try," Mel said looking across at Chris who just nodded, "it might cost us to bribe a few people to look the other way, that sort of thing."
"Money is not an object, Melanie," Jenna said getting to her feet and straightening the robe she'd pulled over her silk pajamas. "Do whatever you need to do, I'll pay anything to get my daughter back, even the thirty million dollars they're asking if I have to. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to talk to my family. I'd rather they heard this news from me rather than from the press, and I think we'll need to make a statement as well."
"You heard the lady," James said to his Ops chief as Jenna walked back into her room. "We've got no time to waste. Sorry about the lack of sleep folks, but we can sleep on the journey. Mel, start working on getting what we need to the safe house. Chris, the rest of the team are arriving tomorrow, I'll need you to pick them up and sent them straight up there; and I want you two to pull that tape apart for anything you can find... absolutely anything. Snowy, you Andy, Simon and I will leave for the testing area as soon as we can get a flight so let's get what we need packed up and ready; time to go to work people. Zero hour is three days from now and time is tight; you all with me?"
"Yes, Sir," I said, nodding appreciatively at the way he had taken charge; around me, I heard the others agreeing in their own ways. It was good to know that finally we were preparing for the mission ahead, and I allowed myself to feel a moment of exhilaration before sinking back into the dark place that had consumed me, practically since Baghdad.
"Ok, kids let's get going; Freen, do me a favor and check on Jenna would you? I think she's going to need someone right now and you're the closest thing to family she's got."
"I'll do my best, Panda," I said as they all prepared to leave. "What time do you want us to be ready?"
"I want you to be ready as soon as possible, Snowy," he said clapping his hand on my shoulder, "but I don't think Jenna should be coming with us, do you?"
"She's going to have to come up to the hotel at the testing area, boss," I said shaking my head.
"She's the only reason we have for going up there ourselves, and I know she'll want to be up there for when we bring Becky home."
"Well, see if you can get her to stick to the plan then, kid, and keep your spirits up too, ok? Don't need you doing anything stupid."
"I'll keep an eye on her, James, and I'll stick to your plan like I promised." Jenna's voice interrupted us from the doorway to her bedroom. "We have a few meetings to go to and I have to try and arrange a few things, but I'll make sure they're all done this morning. Now run along dear, Freen and I have packing to do if we're all going to head up to the demonstration site at Srinagar today; and I'm sure you have a lot to organize yourself."
"That I do, ma'am," James said with a half-salute in her direction and a knowing wink in mine at her words. "I'll see you both later. Freen, keep that phone of yours handy, and if you find the time to take a nap..."
"I'll have it on my pillow, yes, boss...now do as Mrs Armstrong asks and piss off."
-----
The suite was silent after everyone left, Jenna and I sat on separate sofas lost in our thoughts; the images I'd seen burnt into my brain as deeply as the sight of my mother the morning I'd woken up to find her gone; as deeply as the sight of Whitey's body lying in the dust of an Afghan street, the blood seeping into the dirt and sand. Becky's face as she'd stared into the camera was just one more painful image that I'd have to try to live with.
Though this time, at least, I had the opportunity to redeem myself; in my own eyes if not in Becky's. This time I had the chance to go and get her back.
"Would you like a drink, dear?" Jenna suddenly said dragging me from my gloomy thoughts, "I think I need another strong coffee before we get started."
"I'll do it, Jenna," I said getting up and stretching, "I'm sure I saw a kettle in that dresser over there."
"Don't be silly, dear," she said patting the chair next to her, "we'll order from room service again; I think we both need to talk about what we've just seen, I know I do anyway."
I nodded grimly as she picked up the room's phone for the third time that morning and ordered our drinks. Mouthing what I was going to do, and getting a nod from my host, I took the opportunity to head for my bathroom and freshen up; the mere act of taking a quick shower and brushing my teeth making me feel slightly more human. When I walked back into the suite, robe wrapped tightly around me and rubbing a towel through my wet hair, I found it deserted, Jenna nowhere to be seen.
There was, however, a hastily scribbled note on the coffee table and the sound of running water from Jenna's room, her note telling me that my idea was so good she'd followed my example and headed for the shower herself. She's also told me that room service was on its way and that Ishould listen out for a knock at the door.
With an amused smile at her words, I sat down on the sofa and carried on drying my hair while I waited. It wasn't long before the knock at the door came and I'd just ushered the employee from the room when Jenna appeared in a matching outfit to mine.
"Well, aren't we the very height of fashion?" she said with a faint smile tugging at the lapels of her gleaming white hotel robe as she sat down.
"First time anyone's said that about me," I said as I sat down next to her again and pulling the tray towards us. "Usual?"
"Can I have an extra spoonful of sugar please, Freen? I think I need it after this morning's shocks. Actually," she added thoughtfully, "I think I'd like something much stronger to put into it, but this will have to do for now."
I nodded as I poured her a drink, adding the two large spoonful's of sugar and stirring before adding the milk and passing it over to her.
"Mmmmm, that hits the spot," she said happily as she took a long sip while I made my own drink.
"Sure does," I said sitting back, leaning against the sofa arm so I could look at her. "So, how are you feeling, Jenna? That wasn't a pretty thing to have to see."
"I don't think it's sunk in dear, it's like it wasn't real, though I know it was. I'm not sure how I should feel either; relieved, upset, I just don't know."
There was a distinct break in Jenna's voice as she spoke, her impressive emotional barrier sounding close to breaking.
"I'm sorry, dear," she said taking a deep breath before diving into her cup again, "this must seem so stupid to someone like you."
"Why's that?" I asked gently, trying not to poke at the open wound.
"Well, with the things you've seen, the things that you've told me and Becky about; and all the things you haven't. It must seem so silly."
"It doesn't seem silly at all, Jenna," I said, shifting my way along the sofa to get closer to her. "We all go through this in some way or another. That was as unpleasant for me as anyone else."
"Really?" she asked her face looking pained.
"Really," I replied reaching out to awkwardly pat her knee. "I felt terrible as we watched that video because I wanted Brian to die; well... I didn't want anyone to die," I corrected myself quickly. "...but if one of them was to die, I didn't want it to be Becky. That's not a nice thing to want; and when they killed him, I felt really guilty for thinking that."
"That's how I felt dear, exactly how I feel right now. I'm so relieved that Becky's still alive, but I'm feeling terrible about poor Brian, for wanting him to die."
"You shouldn't," I said shaking my head to emphasize the point, "what we're feeling is perfectly normal, Jenna, so the head-shrinkers used to tell us when we lost someone. I'm sure Becky and Joanna would tell you the same thing if they could. It's natural to feel confused like that, trust me I know."
"Becky's not going to be the same person when she gets home is she, Freen?" Jenna said suddenly with tears running down her cheeks. "Not after going through something like that, not after seeing someone killed in front of her."
I shook my head, even though part of me was sure my Becky was the sort of person who would have taken Brian's place if the chips had fallen her way; deep down, I suspected that human nature would have taken over when they'd been dragged to their knees, when they knew their fate was sealed. I was sure that she'd have been thinking the same thing I would have been in her shoes, 'him not me, him not me; kill him, not fucking me!'
"It'll be tough for her," I replied eventually, realizing that Jenna was waiting for me to respond, "but she's strong, Jenna. She's really, really strong; and when we get her back she'll have peoplearound her that care...that's going to make a huge difference."
"That's true," she replied squeezing my arm, "she really will. The family will look after her, and she's got some very good friends now with James and Bonnie...you'll be there with us too, won't you, Freen?"
That last question was asked almost shyly, as if double checking that I hadn't changed my mind since I'd sent them both the messages I had back in Blighty.
"If she still want's me around," I said, finally voicing the fears that had dogged me since I sent the message that Becky never received. "If I haven't fucked things up completely by being an asshole for the last few weeks."
"She never thought that you know, Freen dear," Jenna replied, reaching out and grabbing my hand tightly. "She did understand; in fact, the only person she thought was an asshole was her, after she turned up at James' making demands."
"Even so," I said shaking my head as she squeezed my knuckles, "I was a twat to her, and she didn't deserve that...I just couldn't help myself."
"I know, dear and Becky knew that, too; and what's more I know she still loves you, she'll want you around when we get her home. In fact, I suspect she'll need you more than any of us."
"Why's that?" I asked, watching as she smiled at my furrowed brow.
"Because you'll be better than anyone at understanding what she's going through right now, won't you?"
I shook my head to signal my lack of understanding, causing Jenna to smile at me sadly.
"You've been there, haven't you, dear? Or at least, you've had to deal with coming home after something awful like this."
I nodded, sipping at my coffee and avoiding her look. I knew about doing that, I knew about doing that all too well.
------
"Are you ok there, Freen?" Jenna asked as we sat in the car we were being driven around the bustling streets of New Delhi in.
"Yeah," I said nodding, "just a bit annoyed and anxious to get away from here. I need to feel like I'm doing something useful, you know?"
I wasn't kidding and judging by the strength of her squeeze on my hand I wasn't the only one. Today had started out badly with that video, and it hadn't got any better. When the news of Brian's murder hit the news, Jenna had been inundated by telephone calls from friends, press, and government officials alike; and she'd spend all her time as we flitted from meeting to meeting with her phone glued to her ear. Richie had been busy back at home as well; Jenna's early morning wake up call spurring him into action. I'd already seen footage of him on theinternet, talking to reporters outside his London flat.
The statement he'd given to the waiting media had been carefully prepared; the obligatory, and genuine, sorrow for Brian's loss and of course their concern for Becky's continued well-being. Accompanying this was an assurance to the kidnappers that the extra money was being raised, and a plaintive request for them to deal in good faith this time.
"You said that you believed we were not acting with honor," he said, his face flickering as the camera flashes exploded around him. "I can assure you that we did everything in our power to meet the midnight deadline you set; please I beg you, do the same, act with honor and allow us the time you set once more."
A tear rolled down his cheek as he said those final words, a sorrowful tear that hid the anger I knew he was actually feeling. It had been Jenna's suggestion that Richie really play up the distraught brother and look for the cameras, the intention being to put more pressure on the people in charge back at home.
It might seem cynical, emphasizing his pain like that, but it was a tool that we had to use. The public loved a grieving family, and a grieving family member pleading for his sister's life was guaranteed front page news, and guaranteed public sympathy. I doubted it would have any effect on the scumbags that had hunted down Becky, caring not for anyone that came between them and their fucked up plans and ideals. But what I did recognize was a good diversionary tactic, an opportunity to lull them into a false sense of security; let them think that they had won.
I approved of that, it was easy to let them believe that they had the upper hand now; their time was coming.
"Only annoyed," Jenna said squeezing my hand again, "I'm bloody furious I don't mind telling you, thank heavens that there are people supporting us now; if we left it up to our officials here nothing would be getting done."
Jenna was right, despite the people who were, after some political pressure, now trying to help us, there had been an awful lot that were just getting in our way; including an officious little prick that had incurred her wrath when we were trying to arrange the repatriation of the people that were killed in the ambush. I don't think he enjoyed the exchange, I know Jenna hadn't.
"Is it too much to ask for people to make this kind of thing easier for us?" she'd complained as we'd walked away from the building, "all I want to do is the right thing by those brave people."
"Bureaucrats," I'd answered sadly, "he's probably terrified that the people above him will criticize him for helping us after the last couple of days."
"This has nothing to do with getting Becky back though, Freen," she'd protested, "this is about doing the right thing for those that we lost."
I couldn't disagree with her; it was frustrating to have barriers constantly placed in front of us. I was a simple squaddie, I had a mission plan in front of me and I wanted to get moving; fucking around like this wasn't helping.
"Freen?"
"Yes?" I answered, turning back to Jenna from where I'd been watching the road around us.
"You went away from me again there, dear," she said smiling, "are you sure you're ok?"
"Sorry, Jenna," I replied apologetically, "I do that sometimes. I'm fine, honest."
"Is that your thing, dear?" she said, and then smiled and I shook my head emphatically. "It'll be our little secret, dear," she said knowingly, "I promise I won't tell Becky."
"Tell her if you like," I snorted, "she already knows I spend a lot of time in my head; my mum told her...well, sort of."
"On those tapes she left you?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, "Becky told me about them, but not what was on them."
"Yeah," I replied, secretly happy that Becky hadn't told Jenna everything about that. Sharing my mum's tapes with her had been something I considered private, and it warmed my heart to think that Becky had felt the same way.
"I think you're bluffing," she said with a knowing tap on her nose, "I think I've discovered this 'thing' of yours, Freen, I'll be watching out for it now."
I shrugged noncommittally and went back to looking out of the windows for possible trouble. It was easy to let her think that, after all I did do it an awful lot; but it wasn't really my nervous 'thing', Only one person that I knew of had sussed out a sure fire way of telling when I was nervous about something, and he wouldn't be telling anyone my secrets.
Lunch time came and went without a mention as we packed up at the hotel and headed for the airport. The Indian Army had laid a plane on for us to take us up North to the testing area and I couldn't help but smile a little at Jenna's face as we were dropped off next to a huge Russian transport plane, its rear ramp lowered as pallet loads of boxes were being loaded into its cavernous belly.
"It'll be just like old times, Snowy," James called out over the noise of the airfield, startling me slightly. If it wasn't for the accent, I could have sworn it was Whitey that had spoken to me.
"You ok there, Sarge," Jenna said looking at me strangely, "you look like you've seen a ghost."
"More like heard one," I muttered cryptically, not realizing that she had heard me. Quickly, I hitched my kit bag over my shoulder and looked around, "Where's our contact do you think?" Jenna looked at me shrewdly as I changed the subject, but to my relief didn't say anything about my comment, eying the transport plane suspiciously.
"They can't seriously expect us to get on that thing, can they?" she said finally; provoking laughter from all around her. "What?" she demanded finally looking frustrated at us all.
"That's luxury transport for some of us, Mrs A," James said winking at me, "I've spent a lot of time in the back of planes like that, looking forward to the trip actually."
Jenna scowled at him, her eyes narrowing dangerously, if I was honest, I felt like doing the same. I'd spent time in the back of transport planes like that as well, and I wasn't looking forward to it, my last ride hardly being an enjoyable trip. In the end though it wasn't to be, our contact finally arrived and ushered us across into a small, boxy, twin-engined prop-plane.
I was lost in my thoughts once more as the engines fired up, drowning out all opportunity for conversation, despite the headsets we'd been given by the uniformed crew member that had made sure we were strapped in prior to take off. I'd deliberately sat near the back of the plane away from everyone else, trying to avoid contact with the others during a flight I knew I wasn't going to enjoy.
-----
A couple of hours of bone juddering misery later we were warned that we were on approach to the tiny airfield at Srinagar, my stomach lurching as we began our descent. Staring at the team in front of me, I could see them mentally preparing themselves, this was the beginning of the mission for us, and I could sense the building tension in the air, a tension that had nothing to do with the creaking of the airframe around us as the plane drifted towards the ground.
Ten minutes later, I was breathing again, the wheels thumping into the tarmac with a distinct lack of grace. Still, they said any landing you could walk away from was a good one; and, as the engines whined to a halt, walk away from it I did. Stepping through the hatch into a cool, fresh afternoon; it was a pleasant change to the heat and pollution of the capital and, despite the slight heat haze that the runways were emitting, I felt comfortable in my own skin for the first time that week.
"Ready, kid?" James said slapping me on the back as I stood and waited for Jenna to get into the vehicles that had arrived to transport us to our hotel.
"You know it, boss," I replied nodding away, "no turning back now."
"Not a fucking chance, kid, no turning back until we've got your girl."
"Thanks, Panda," I said with a wink, "that makes me feel a hell of a lot better about things."
"Whatever," he replied with a little hint of embarrassment in his voice, "now get in that car Snowy, everything's going to be fine. Three days from now and we'll be prising Becky off you with a crowbar, and you'll be loving every minute of playing the heroic rescuer."
"Yeah, whatever," I said shoving him towards the open door getting a grin and a wink from Simon and Andy. I gestured at the pair of them to get in with a scowl before slamming the doorand getting into the front of the vehicle.
Three days to go, well a bit less than that actually. Three short days and we'd have Becky home safe and sound. If only I could persuade my gut that it was going to be that easy.