Missing in Action

Chapter Twenty Six

Missing in Action

Chapter Twenty Six

Cassidy's P.O.V

I wanted to be dead. I wanted this darkness to be the end. I wanted my life to end. That would be better for my family, better than never knowing. This darkness was comforting, and if this was what was after death, that was fine by me.

But it wasn't.

I could hear faint voices, and there was a steady drip of water somewhere.

Then, there was a scrape of metal on a stone floor and the voices were louder. I kept my breathing slow because I couldn't let them know that I was awake without learning more first.

"She's still out," one of the voices stated. It had a thick accent, and clearly belonged to a man.

"She's been out for almost a month!" the second voice exclaimed. It was a British voice, or at least, someone who could speak English incredibly well.

Almost a month. Had my family been told that I was missing yet? Did they think I was dead? Did they think that I was like-

No.

I didn't allow myself to finish the sentence. I never spoke of the ghost from my past, and I wouldn't now. If I thought about it, then I was lost.

"I'm aware sir, but don't you think-" the man with the accent began.

"No I don't. If she's not awake by tomorrow, put a bullet in her head and send her back to Britain. Now, we have business to discuss," the English one snapped.

I weighed my options. Die tomorrow or give myself a fighting chance. Death or torture. I was trained to survive the latter.

The door slammed as the men left.

I knew ten things before I opened my eyes.

1. This room had an iron door.

2. I wasn't dead.

3. I had been here for a least a month.

4. I was still in hostile territory.

5. I was officially M.I.A.

6. I was tied to a chair.

7. There was a water pipe that was leaking in this room.

8. The room was quite small.

9. I still had a knife in my left boot.

10. They didn't know who I was yet.

I opened my eyes. The room was small, and the only furniture in here was the chair I was sitting on, a chair opposite me and a long table stretched along the wall to my right. There was a window high up on the left wall, but it was too small to be used as an escape route. The floor was covered in piles of sand, but underneath was an uneven stone floor. Water dripped from a pipe in the ceiling steadly.

There was nothing that could be used as a weapon, and for once, I was glad Henry had always made me put a knife in my boot since our second tour.

I had so much to thank Henry for, but I had probably already missed the funeral. I sighed.

I looked at the floor by the door. There was a deep indent in the floor where the iron had scraped away the stone. I then looked at the door. It looked quite thick, but the lock would be easy to pick if I got close enough, when I got close enough.

I wouldn't let myself rot in here.

It was clear that these people had thought a lot about holding military because this room was almost impossible to escape. Almost, but I wasn't going to try now, I had to wait for the right moment.