Jase watched as Ant stared helplessly for a split second. They all stood rooted to the ground, eyes glued to the scene before them. As Rav launched himself towards the small shaking woman, something clicked and the team remembered themselves. Five of them stood back with torches illuminating Paige's bruised form as Rav worked tirelessly to do... something.
After some time Jase handed his torch to Chris and made his way over to Sonny, who stood guard next to a hooded and bound al-Raheem.
"She gonna die?" Sonny, ever the cowboy, chewed a wooden toothpick as he stood with his rifle.
"I don't think so," Jase shook his head. "Rav said her lung is punctured from trauma but doesn't think the bleeding is from that. He thinks the haemoptysis is coming from her stomach rather than her lungs, said the blood is too dark. He's inserting a tube to drain the lungs for the puncture but he's having to fucking... navigate around bits of broken rib to get to the lung," Jase was exhausted and angry. Where the fuck was their exfil? They had been without comms for twelve hours, and he was worried.
"And the puking blood? That just gonna fix itself or what?" Sonny frowned deeply. Their own medic should have been seeing to her, at least he knew and trusted him.
"Apparently. Biggest risk from it is choking so as long as she's monitored she'll be fine. We have to get that wire off though," Jase watched his boot as he swayed it side to side in the powdery earth like a windscreen wiper. Sonny grimaced and watched al-Raheem. He held him in a stress position and refused to let him sleep. When al-Raheem made no movement Sonny kicked him in the back.
"You ok over here?" Jase looked Sonny in the eye.
"I'm better here than watching that wire get pulled out her neck," he leaned forward and grabbed Bazish by the collar of his robe to pull him back into his stress position. Jase nodded to him and returned to the small circle around Paige.
*
I felt warm. That was different. Comfortably warm and somewhat content. Something felt different. I opened my eyes, fresh daylight streaming in.
"Morning," a voice came from beside me. I froze instantly, heart racing in my chest. Control your breathing, control your breathing. I had forgotten where I was. These men had attacked me and pinned me to the ground. Oh no, I had passed out. I had passed out and they had probably all done as they wished with me. And they'd attacked Jas, I had heard her scream.
A figure walked past my head and the man crouched next to me, his face parallel to mine. I looked at the sky, trembling uncontrollably. Don't cry.
"We need to do some obs, is that alright?" The voice was gentle and accented. A tear slipped down before I could stop it.
"It's alright, we're just going to check your blood pressure," a hand slid forward towards the zip on the sleeping bag. I clenched my eyes shut and more tears escaped; I stayed silent, trying desperately not to hyperventilate.
"It's not gonna hurt," the voice said. Fingers touched my arm and I shuddered, the tremors across my body nearly uncontrollable. I wanted to be sick. My arm was pulled away from my body, my hands coming apart. Had the wire been removed? A cold compress was wound around the top of my arm but all I could feel was the occasional contact of someone else's skin. I tried desperately to grapple with reality but I knew what they were capable of. They may be gentle right now but who was to say that after this they wouldn't begin their fun?
"All done," the voice said. "Paige, can you look at me? Can you sit up if we help you?"
I kept my eyes firmly shut. You don't have to look at them, you don't have to look at them. Take yourself somewhere else. You're not here. This isn't real.
"Paige?"
"She's been captive, she'll respond to orders not questions," a more familiar voice said. Footsteps approached and I braced myself. I would do what they said, I knew I would. I wouldn't fight, resistance was futile.
"Paige, listen to me. Open your eyes and look at me," the words were cold and commanding.
I swallowed a huge lump in my throat, still shaking. Slowly I opened my eyes and looked up to the bearded figure in front of me. Piercing blue eyes met mine. It was the man who had pinned me to the ground, I recognised the intensity in his gaze.
"Sit up, I'll help." I shivered when his hands connected with my waist and he eased me into a seated position. I gritted my teeth as I tried to ignore the pain searing through my chest, groans of discomfort sneaking out.
"Do you know who you are?" He asked. I nodded slowly. "No, talk. Tell me yes or no."
"Yes," I croaked. My voice sounded strange. It hurt to get the word out- a deep slice through my middle that left a nearly intolerable burning sensation.
"Do you know who we are?"
I looked around at the uniformed men. There was someone crouched on the floor with a hood over their head.
"Jas?" I edged forward in hope. The man in front of me followed my gaze.
"Al-Raheem," he corrected, his voice quieter.
I looked up at him with confusion. Who was that? Where was Jas? I did a quick scan of the makeshift camp, but there was no sign of her amongst the armed bodies.
"What did you do with her?" I whispered in horror, the sensation more bearable than full spoken words.
"I'm sorry... We couldn't bring her back," the blue eyes stared at the hooded figure. What?
"Wha- what do you mean? You had her, I heard her scream," my voice was unfamiliar, I hadn't heard it in so long. With each word the burning became slightly easier to bear but it was so distracting. I was sure what he was saying didn't make any sense.
"When?" Those piercing blue eyes connected with mine in confrontation.
"Here, before, when you pinned me to the ground. You had her, all of you, she was screaming but you knocked me out! What have you done with her?!" The strength to confront this man was pulled from somewhere, and it took energy I didn't know I had. I wanted to stand eye to eye with him and demand justice. The small notion of courage was quickly cooled by the realisation of what I was up against, he could have snapped me in half.
The man took a step back, and another strode beside him. They shared a look between themselves. The second man had a kinder face, and before he spoke he removed a wooden toothpick from his mouth. He crouched in front of me so his warm hazel eyes were level with my own.
"Paige, I'm Sonny. I'm with the US military. I know this is hard to hear, and hard to take in but your friend didn't make it back here. No one touched her... well, no one here," he trailed off and gazed at the mud for a moment. "The screaming you heard might have been in your mind, it's very possible you're traumatised from everything that's happened," he had a heavy Southern accent, but his voice was gentle.
I stared into nothing. I was a psychologist, and I had missed this. It was laughable. PTSD. I had PTSD. Had these men even been trying to hurt me? Had I invented the danger in my head? Had I been... rescued?
"Wh- where did you find me?" I struggled to find the words because I wasn't sure what questions I wanted answered first.
"Bout 24 miles east of here, in an underground bunker."
Underground. It all came swimming back. The basement. The heavy metal door thick with rust that squealed each time it was opened or closed. The fluorescent lights that burned your retinas. The unending darkness when we were left alone. The whip, the wire, the camera, the screaming, the blood the vomit the buckets and buckets and buckets of bodily fluids tipped over our heads, the sheets over our mouths and the cascades of water that drowned you slowly, the twitch of a boot that said brace for pain, the belt the hood that hood the needles, so many needles- the fire through veins that made you want to tear your skin apart and the sweating shaking shivering urinating on yourself because there was no control over anything and the man, that man- no! That man with his robe and the thing the underwear halfway down your thighs the smile his eyes his eyes LOOK! Look at him but go somewhere else desperately go somewhere else you will die later I promise just breathe. Breathe. Breathe. The air wasn't hot. I sucked in a breath. The air wasn't hot. It was cold. It was fresh. I looked up to blue eyes.
"I remember," I stammered. The man nodded.