Page 85
Story: Sweet Betrayal
All he had to do was signal the American frigate that would be waiting in international waters. He didn’t bother to change the frequency as he knew the U.S. Navy would be monitoring them all.
It took several attempts before he got a response from the American assault ship, USS Liberty Spear, situated twenty miles offshore. At first the captain was wary, given that Tom was transmitting on a local Symanian frequency. Once Tom had identified himself and given his military ID number, the captain was all ears.
On the captain’s directions, they switched to a more secure frequency. Tom relayed the coordinates of the safe houses to the captain of the warship. He didn’t say what they were for, just to pass them on to Commander Larson at the U.S. Marine Corps headquarters in Virginia immediately. It was a matter of extreme urgency and would affect the outcome of the war.
“Do you need assistance?” inquired the captain, after he had done as requested.
Tom didn’t hesitate. “An American citizen has been captured and is currently being held outside Hamesh. I’m going to attempt a rescue operation, but I’m acting alone. Backup would be appreciated.”
More than they knew.
The captain said he’d send a team of operators to assist.
Relief flooded his body. They had the training and experience to deal with a hostage rescue.
The captain asked for a secure landing site, so he gave him a location farther up the beach, away from the marina and out of site of the main port. It was also closer to the industrial area where the warehouse was located.
ETA was forty-five minutes.
CHAPTER 34
Hannah was ushered into an empty warehouse and made to sit on the cold concrete floor. One of her captors spat at her, while the other fastened her hands together in front of her and then to a railing attached to the wall. It was too high to sit comfortably, so she was forced to kneel.
The man had burst into the restroom while Tom had gone to check the boat. Poor Tom. She’d never forget the look on his face as they’d forced her into the SUV. She hoped he was okay. One on one, he had a fighting chance. But both men had been armed, and Tom wouldn’t have surrendered. She knew that much about him.
Who’d given them away?
The fisherman? Someone at the diner? It was all so confusing.
She slumped against the wall, the ties cutting into her wrists. What did it matter? She had been captured–again–and this time it was for good.
If by some miracle Tom had survived, he’d be making his way to the mainland now. He had a duty to perform. He couldn’t risk not getting the intel back in time.
She began to cry.
At least some good might still come out of this. If he got out of here in time, if he relayed the intel, he could stop the airstrikes. Thousands of lives would be saved. He could put an end to the civil war.
He’d be a hero. He already was a hero.
Her hero.
Tears ran freely down her face. She couldn’t stop them, didn’t want to stop them. She cried for her own fate, for the torture that was surely to come, for Tom, and for the people of this country. She thought of his gentle hands and the passion they’d shared, and hot tears rolled down her cheeks. Never again would she feel his hands on her body or his lips on hers.
The worst part was she’d die without telling him how she felt. Tom would never know how much she loved him.
A guard shouted at her to shut up, then when she didn’t, came over and kicked her in the stomach. She spluttered and coughed, gasping for air.
“Keep your mouth shut, pig woman,” he sneered.
Her sobs turned to whimpers, and she began to pray for a swift end to the pain she knew was coming. When he got here.
She was a traitor, and they didn’t treat traitors lightly in this country. Especially not ones who’d betrayed the regime.
Another guard came up to her. “You are a beautiful woman,” he said in Arabic. His dark eyes roamed over her body.
“Leave me alone,” she hissed in his native tongue.
His eyes widened. “Ah, you speak Arabic. Good. Then you’ll understand when I tell you what I’m going to do to you.”
It took several attempts before he got a response from the American assault ship, USS Liberty Spear, situated twenty miles offshore. At first the captain was wary, given that Tom was transmitting on a local Symanian frequency. Once Tom had identified himself and given his military ID number, the captain was all ears.
On the captain’s directions, they switched to a more secure frequency. Tom relayed the coordinates of the safe houses to the captain of the warship. He didn’t say what they were for, just to pass them on to Commander Larson at the U.S. Marine Corps headquarters in Virginia immediately. It was a matter of extreme urgency and would affect the outcome of the war.
“Do you need assistance?” inquired the captain, after he had done as requested.
Tom didn’t hesitate. “An American citizen has been captured and is currently being held outside Hamesh. I’m going to attempt a rescue operation, but I’m acting alone. Backup would be appreciated.”
More than they knew.
The captain said he’d send a team of operators to assist.
Relief flooded his body. They had the training and experience to deal with a hostage rescue.
The captain asked for a secure landing site, so he gave him a location farther up the beach, away from the marina and out of site of the main port. It was also closer to the industrial area where the warehouse was located.
ETA was forty-five minutes.
CHAPTER 34
Hannah was ushered into an empty warehouse and made to sit on the cold concrete floor. One of her captors spat at her, while the other fastened her hands together in front of her and then to a railing attached to the wall. It was too high to sit comfortably, so she was forced to kneel.
The man had burst into the restroom while Tom had gone to check the boat. Poor Tom. She’d never forget the look on his face as they’d forced her into the SUV. She hoped he was okay. One on one, he had a fighting chance. But both men had been armed, and Tom wouldn’t have surrendered. She knew that much about him.
Who’d given them away?
The fisherman? Someone at the diner? It was all so confusing.
She slumped against the wall, the ties cutting into her wrists. What did it matter? She had been captured–again–and this time it was for good.
If by some miracle Tom had survived, he’d be making his way to the mainland now. He had a duty to perform. He couldn’t risk not getting the intel back in time.
She began to cry.
At least some good might still come out of this. If he got out of here in time, if he relayed the intel, he could stop the airstrikes. Thousands of lives would be saved. He could put an end to the civil war.
He’d be a hero. He already was a hero.
Her hero.
Tears ran freely down her face. She couldn’t stop them, didn’t want to stop them. She cried for her own fate, for the torture that was surely to come, for Tom, and for the people of this country. She thought of his gentle hands and the passion they’d shared, and hot tears rolled down her cheeks. Never again would she feel his hands on her body or his lips on hers.
The worst part was she’d die without telling him how she felt. Tom would never know how much she loved him.
A guard shouted at her to shut up, then when she didn’t, came over and kicked her in the stomach. She spluttered and coughed, gasping for air.
“Keep your mouth shut, pig woman,” he sneered.
Her sobs turned to whimpers, and she began to pray for a swift end to the pain she knew was coming. When he got here.
She was a traitor, and they didn’t treat traitors lightly in this country. Especially not ones who’d betrayed the regime.
Another guard came up to her. “You are a beautiful woman,” he said in Arabic. His dark eyes roamed over her body.
“Leave me alone,” she hissed in his native tongue.
His eyes widened. “Ah, you speak Arabic. Good. Then you’ll understand when I tell you what I’m going to do to you.”
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