Missing in Action

Chapter Thirty Three

Missing in Action

Chapter Thirty Three

Cassidy's P.O.V

No, not yet.

When I woke up, it was the first thing that my brain processed. Those three little words spoken in Henry's voice inside my brain.

I still didn't know if it had all been some weird dream. Henry was dead, and I was as good as dead, but it had seemed so real.

When I woke up, the surroundings were similar. I was back in the cell and he was already here. I was back in hell.

"Good afternoon," he said with a smile.

I just glared at him.

I had failed. I wasn't free, and he was going to enjoy every single second of the torture of the whole situation.

"Not talking again then," he remarked.

I looked away from him. When I saw his face, I was reminded of him telling me than James, Ben and Peter were dead. It stung.

They were gone, and so was Henry. They had died for nothing, and I was left here to remember them.

For the first time, I saw no way out and no freedom anywhere.

No, not yet.

I found myself wondering what Henry had meant. He'd said that he didn't know when my time was up, but then he went and said that.

It must have been a dream, because that must have been what I wanted to hear.

"You know, the escape attempt was quite admirable," Tom Scott told me.

I realised that there was a bruise at the side of his head. I must have hit him harder than I thought.

It wasn't enough though. It would never be enough to match up to the pain that he had caused me when he told me that they were dead.

I decided to speak again.

"If you've come here to gloat, I don't want to hear it," I said.

A throbbing in my head began after I spoke. It hammered the middle if my forehead like a miner trying to escape a landslide.

He smiled.

"Oh, I'm not here to gloat as you put it. I'm here for a different reason," he said.

"I'm not in the mood for games," I retorted.

He looked thoughtful for a moment, then he studied my face.

"Shame," he said. "You would have made an inspiring terrorist".

I laughed at that.

"I don't need to be inspiring in any way. I was doing a brilliant job where I am thank you," I replied. "What did they do to rope you in anyway?"

"It's not what they did, it was what the British Army did," he stated.

"Well not everything goes the way you expect it to," I said.

He didn't say anything for a while.

He turned to the table and began to sort through the items that were on the table. I hadn't noticed them until now. A camera, a folded down tripod and a laptop rested on the battered wood surface.

I wondered what it was all for. The answer was one of two things: I was going to die today, or they were going to make demands for my life.

The former reason was the most likely, but then I realised that they hadn't demanded anything for my freedom. They had made demands when a pilot of another country had come down in their territory, but he had ended up dead despite that country's government agreeing to the demands.

"They won't give you anything," I blurted out.

I hadn't even processed the words, but they had come out anyway. I wished that I could cram them back into my mouth, but it was two late.

He turned around. He looked like he wanted to punch me.

"Go on then, do it! See if it does anything," I spat the words at him.

He didn't do anything.

"Oh, I would love to, but you see, appearances are everything when making demands. Your wounds are healing, except the gun shot wound you came in with. They'll be able to tell that your arm was broken, and the bruises are still there," he said.

I knew that that was enough for him. It was enough that the people I love would know that they were hurting me. Part of, the part of me that was still a wild animal, wanted to yell at him until my throat was raw, but the rest of me didn't have the energy.

"They never forget," I whispered.

"What did you say?!" he demanded.

"They never forget," I repeated, but I said it louder this time.

"Who never forgets what?!" he hissed.

The animal part of me took over. This wasn't a chance, this was where I died. I wasn't going to let myself die without a fight.

"The Navy never forgets who they have lost. They never will forget that one of their own died out here. They might not save me, but they will always remember my name and why I had to die. And what do you think will happen when they come to crush you little organisation? You won't last a minute. You told me that you were willing to die for what you believe in. They will gladly kill you because you killed me," I told him.

This time, he did punch me. It was square in the face. I smiled when the blood began to fall from my nose.

The pain reminded me why I was still here. It reminded me that I was still alive and that I still had time.

"They will never forget," I whispered through the blood.

He began to set up the tripod then.

"You're still in our territory, and you're still our prisoner. So here's how this is going to work; you're going to tell them what we want, and then you're going to tell them that they need to do it, or I will kill you. Add that they only have a week to do so," he said pleasantly.

A week.

One single week. It wasn't a large amount of time, but it was enough to accept death. It was also better than anymore time in this hell.

He called the other two men in after he had finshed talking to me.

They were dressed in terrorist uniform, and their faces were covered. They both carried mashetties on a belt around their waists.

They stood against the wall behind me.

I resisted my urge to yell at them or show any sign of fear. I was still not going to give up.

I was then told what they wanted. I was forced to repeat the demands several times before they were satisfied with it.

I stared at the red light when the camera was turned on. Then Tom Scott signalled for me to begin.

I'm so sorry Louis.

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A/N- I'm sorry it's short!

Imagine_Fiction.