SEAL's Spitfire (Special Forces: Operation Alpha) (Black Eagle Book 1)

by Lynne St. James

  “You wanted to write story. Yes?”

  Meghan turned toward the voice while trying to memorize her surroundings. “Yes. But I was supposed to go to Bamyan.”

  “You don’t need there. The story is here.”

  “Where is here? I’m supposed to meet with Azfaar.”

  “Yes. You will. Soon. Now come with me.” At least he wasn’t dragging her like the others had, she followed him through a courtyard area with flowers and trees and children running around. Then he led her into the largest of the buildings.

  “I need to go to the bathroom.” She’d been holding it for hours and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could wait. He’d been nicer than the others, she took a chance that he’d understand and take pity on her.

  “You need to wait.”

  “I don’t think I can. I’ve waited a long time.” He didn’t say anything at first but led her down a different hallway and stopped in front of a door.

  “You go.” After a moment’s hesitation about what she’d find on the other side of the door, Meghan reached for the doorknob with trepidation.

  “Go, now.”

  “Okay.” Taking a deep breath, she turned the knob and pushed open the door. The room was dark, and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust. The only light was a small lantern burning near the sink. Letting out the breath she’d been holding, she made a beeline for the toilet.

  As she washed her hands and splashed water on her face, she saw her reflection in the mirror and barely recognized herself. Her black hair was tangled and knotted and even dragging her fingers through it didn’t fix it. The bags and shadows were so dark under her eyes she looked like one of the walking dead.

  A sharp knock on the door made her jump and sent her heart racing. “Hurry up.” The voice was different, not the same heavy accent as before. Praying that she’d at least see her brother before they killed her, she pulled open the door and stepped out to face the muzzle of a gun.

  “Enough stalling. Come with us.” They didn’t give her much choice. One of the other men grabbed her arm and dragged her down the hall. The man who’d let her use the bathroom was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he’d gotten into trouble for showing her kindness.

  The hallway was plain, mostly bare walls and lots of doors. As she was pulled along, she continued to catalog everything she saw, hoping it would come back to her if she had the opportunity to escape. They climbed a flight of stairs and then walked down a hall lined with heavy metal doors. At the tenth door, they stopped. Fear sent shivers down her spine. This wasn’t the type of door to keep people out, it was meant to keep someone in. Up until then, she’d still hoped they were taking her to Azfaar for the pre-arranged interview.

  The first guard tapped keys on the electronic pad and the door clicked open. Without a word, they shoved her inside and slammed it shut behind her. The echo of the door clicking shut was so final that she was resigned to the thought that she’d never leave the cell or see her brother again. A noise made her turn around and she realized she wasn’t alone. They’d put her in with the other hostages.

  “Charlie!” He was there, standing less than two feet away. Had she really found him? Racing to him, she hugged him tightly, relief at having found him bringing tears to her eyes. She didn’t let go, wouldn’t let go, she was too afraid he might disappear. That none of this was real.

  “Meghan? What on earth are you doing here?”

  “Oh my God, Charlie. I never thought I’d see you again.”

  “Meggy…” He held her as tightly as she was holding him. Like they were hanging on for dear life. “But I don’t understand why you’re here. Why would you put yourself in danger?”

  “You’re my brother. What else would I do?” Then she looked around the cell at all the other faces, haggard, dirty, but with a bit of hope in their eyes probably for the first time since they’d been taken.

  “Listen. They don’t know I’m related to Charlie. We have to keep it that way.”

  “Why would it matter?”

  “Because they’d use us against each other. No matter what, if anything happens. I’m just another hostage. Don’t interfere, any of you. Our lives could depend on that. Okay?” She watched as they all nodded their heads.

  “I get the feeling there is more than you’re telling us.”

  “Don’t worry. Everything will be okay. Hey, where’s Miranda?” Meghan hoped she sounded convincing. The last thing she wanted was to make it worse for them. They’d been through enough already.

  “They took her the second day we were here after they found out she was a senator’s daughter.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Meghan,” Charlie exclaimed.

  “Really, Charlie? You’re a captive of the Taliban and you’re worried about me saying fuck?”

  “Yes, because our faith is all we have right now.” Meghan sighed.

  “How did you get here? Are there others coming for us? Will help be coming soon?” The rest of the hostages finally realized she was really there, and the questions came too quickly for her to answer.

  “How I got here is a story for another time. The government knows you’re here. They will come as soon as they can.” Praying that she was right and that a rescue was already in work, she tried to sound more positive than she felt.

  “Are any of you hurt?”

  “No, we’re fine.”

  “Meggy, I still can’t believe you’re really here.”

  “Truthfully? Me either. Remember, no matter what they do or say, you don’t know me. Right?”

  “Right, I promise. Do you know why they’re keeping us here?”

  “My friend thinks they are trying to ransom you for weapons. It’s probably why they haven’t hurt you.”

  “Or God’s been protecting us.” Meghan wasn’t sure about that, but if his faith was that strong maybe it was true. Who was she to doubt anything at that point?

  The cell didn’t have much space. A few filthy mattresses were strewn around the cement floor, a bucket, and a small window blocked by heavy bars.

  “I’m so glad you’re okay,” she said and then wobbled on her feet.

  “Sit down, you look like you’re going to fall over.”

  He was right, she was at the end of her rope. The relief at finding Charlie and the others alive sucked all of her energy, and everything she’d gone through in the last twenty-four hours flooded back. Sliding to the floor, she pulled up her knees and wrapped her arms around them. Exhausted and emotionally raw, she leaned on her brother’s shoulder and closed her eyes for a few moments.

  The sound of a cell door slamming woke her. “Oh God. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

  “Meggy, please. You’ve been through hell. You needed it. You weren’t out for long.”

  Searching for her pack to grab a bottle of water, she remembered they took it off of her back when they’d tied her hands and feet in the truck. It was probably still in there unless they’d found it. If they searched the bag, they’d find her press credentials and the phone. Once they realized who she was she’d probably be the next news story.

  “Why would you risk yourself?”

  “You’re my brother. Are you kidding me? I had to do something. I arranged an interview with the local leader. I thought the press coverage might make him want to release you.”

  “Did you see him?”

  “No. They shot my driver and took me before I could get to Bamyan to meet him. I thought maybe I’d get to see him still, I doubt that’ll happen now.”

  The more she thought about it, the more stupid she felt. If they were going to let her interview Azfaar, she would have been taken to him right away instead of being locked up. Chances are they never planned on letting her get near him. When she and Tex had gone over all the possible scenarios, getting captured and killed had been one of them. He made sure she understood the real risks with her decision to go forward. She hadn’t cared, she had to try to save her brother since the government wasn’t doing jack.


  If Rafe’s team had been sent to rescue the missionaries, then Tex would have tried harder to talk her out of going. That much she’d figured out on her own. She would never regret trying to help Charlie and the others even if she failed. And if by some miracle they got out of this, she’d have one hell of a story to tell.

  There had to be something she could do. Some move she could make. What was the worse that would happen? They’d kill her? That was a distinct possibility anyway. She hadn’t come this far to just give up no matter how scared she felt on the inside. With her mind made up, she got off the floor and pounded on the door.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Trying to get them to give me my backpack.”

  “Are you crazy?” one of the other missionaries asked. “You’re going to bring them in here. You don’t know what will happen.”

  “No, I don’t, but I have to try to get us out of here.”

  “You’re going to get us killed.”

  “Be quiet, if she wants to try, I say let her,” Charlie said.

  At first, there was no response, and she wondered if they might not leave any guards. It’s not like they could break out, there wasn’t even a keypad inside the cell, they might as well be in a cement box with a metal lid. She was about to give up when a small window opened in the door. She hadn’t noticed that before.

  “You can pound all you want. It will change nothing.” Maybe not, but she got a response and that was something.

  “I want my pack. I had it when I was brought here.”

  “You are in no place to make demands. You should be happy you’re still breathing.” The guard’s accent was British and something else which made him easier to understand than any of the others.

  “I am a journalist. I came from America to meet with Azfaar. To tell his story to the world.” If they didn’t know who she was they would as soon as they went through her pack. She didn’t think it would matter if they had more information.

  “Azfaar doesn’t deal with women,” the man said and slid the metal plate closed.

  The guard may not have realized it, but he gave Meghan a lot of information. Azfaar was the local Taliban leader in Bamyan, that the guard knew who he was meant she was in his territory.

  “Well that did you a lot of good, didn’t it?”

  “You know, if you don’t stuff it, I may have to come over there and kick you.” The guy was on her last nerve. Instead of being happy to see someone who was there to help he was being a pain in the ass.

  “Meggy, please. Everyone is on edge.”

  “I’m not the one starting it.” Yeah, she was being ornery but dammit the guy could be a little nicer, he was a missionary. Where was his brotherly love?

  “I’m so glad I found you,” she said as she held onto Charlie’s hand, afraid to let him go now that she’d found him.

  “I am too. I just hate that you put yourself in danger like this.”

  “I told Lizzie I’d find you. We kept it from Mom. Trying to explain it would have been hard. She’s gotten a lot worse over the past couple of months.”

  “I’m sorry I put the family through all of this. But it’s my calling. I’d do it again even knowing the consequences.”

  “I know. But can you go to someplace a little safer next time?”

  Charlie chuckled. “Let’s get out of this mess first. Okay?”

  “Amen to that. I wonder what is going to happen next. Do they have a schedule where they feed you or anything?”

  “Not really. It’s like when they remember they give us some bottles of water and some bread.”

  “I guess we just wait and see.”

  About an hour later they found out what was coming next. Hearing the beep of the numbers on the keypad, Meghan moved to the other side of the cell putting as much distance as she could from Charlie. As the door opened, they all tensed. Meghan wished she had something to use as a weapon so she could try to break them out of there, but there was nothing.

  “You, come with us.”

  “Why, where are you taking me?”

  “No questions. Come.” This guy sounded like one of the guys in the desert. What was it with these asshats? Then Tex’s voice echoed in her head. “Women have no worth there, except for cooking, keeping house and making babies. You need to remember that.”

  Meghan looked over at Charlie as one of the gun-toting guards stepped into the cell to grab her. She silently pleaded that he wouldn’t do anything to stop them from taking her, there was no doubt in her mind that they’d use that information against them.

  After they dragged her from the cell, she prayed that they were taking her to see Azfaar after all. The guards surrounded her, one in front and two behind. The two in back had their guns trained on her, leaving her no hope in hell that she’d be able to get away. It was ironic since they believed that women were nothing, yet they needed three guards for her. Maybe they were told that American women were more dangerous.

  The dungeon looking area was left behind, and the stark cement walls and floors changed to murals, oriental carpets and antique furniture. It was like they were in two different buildings. It gave her hope that they were bringing her to Azfaar. Taking her all this way just to kill her seemed kind of crazy, but then she was dealing with the Taliban.

  All the guards Meghan had seen were dressed alike in black with most of their faces covered. It made it impossible to tell who they were. She’d lost her head scarf in the desert and was surprised they hadn’t given her something to cover her head. Or maybe it wouldn’t matter because they planned to remove it from her shoulders soon.

  While following the guard through the various corridors, she tried to come up with what she would say to Azfaar. How to reason with him, and hopefully get him to release the captives. It was a long shot, but she’d come too far not to try at least.

  The guard in front of her stopped and opened another door. At least it wasn’t metal, but her heart sank when she followed him into the room. It was some sort of a recording studio. A single chair was in the center of the room against a gray cement wall similar to the cell she’d just left. A video camera set up on a tripod and an easel were across from the chair.

  “Sit,” Guard number one said. Then he pointed to a poster balanced on the easel. “You will read this, exactly as written, or we will shoot you.”

  Meghan cringed as she looked at what they wanted her to read.

  “Say the words.”

  “I won’t. Go ahead and shoot me.”

  “Azfaar expected that response. If you don’t cooperate, we will shoot her.” A young girl, maybe ten, stood next to guard number two. He had his gun held against the child’s head. What was wrong with these people?

  “Please, don’t hurt her.” She had been a fool to think she could outsmart or even reason with them. They were ruthless and she was an infidel as far as they were concerned.

  “Then read. Make it convincing.” Guard number three moved from the doorway to the tripod and repositioned the camera until it was focused on her position, then started the recording. “Say the words or she will die.”

  The words were traitorous and untrue, but if she didn’t do as they asked an innocent child would die, and it would be her fault. This was not one of the scenarios Tex had discussed. The Taliban usually just demanded ransoms, or they’d sell the captives for arms. This was more of an ISIS tactic.

  “You’re trying my patience. Say the words.” The girl had tears running down her cheeks, but she didn’t make a sound. God knows what they’d already put her through.

  “Let her go and I will do it. But I want you to promise she won’t be hurt.”

  “You have no say here. Read it or she dies.” She’d exhausted all the options she’d been able to come up with and had no choice but to give in to their demands. They slid the easel a bit closer to the camera, which would ensure they captured her full face and would make it look like she was just speaking and not reading their prompts. Sighing, Meghan loo
ked at the camera and read what was written on the poster board. The hate laden words sickened her.

  “I am a non-believer and one of the foreign occupiers. Americans are greedy infidels who want to take over the world. You have no right to be here and no right to take our people prisoner. You will release the ten prisoners taken yesterday or they will kill me. You have three days to comply.”

  Meghan didn’t know how she got through it. But they weren’t happy with her performance. After her first attempt, the second guard who’d been holding the gun on the child, punched her in the face hard enough to knock her out of the chair. Her eye swelled up almost immediately. While she was on the ground, he kicked her over and over until the one in charge told him to stop.

  “Do it again.”

  It was hard to read the words with her eye swollen and the pain radiating from her ribs. She got through it again, but they still weren’t satisfied. The only saving grace for Meghan was that the little girl was gone, and she prayed that they had let her go.

  She lost track of how many times she repeated the words or how many beatings she endured. By the time they were done, the room was spinning, she was nauseated from the blood in her mouth, and was unable to see clearly. Excruciating pain racked her body with every breath. Tears slid down her cheeks, but she no longer cared. All she wanted was for the pain to stop.

  As her captors argued, probably about how to kill her, she prayed for a bullet in the head. Something fast, that would end the pain. One of them approached her but her vision was too blurred to know if it was the one who’d been beating her. Bracing herself for whatever was coming next, she was surprised when he grabbed her wrists and tied them to the chair behind her, then tied her ankles to the legs. It was kind of comical that they actually believed she could walk let alone try to escape.

  She must have passed out at some point. Blinking a few times, she attempted to clear her vision. It was blurry but she could make out enough of her surroundings to know she was alone. The rumbling sound of an explosion rocked the building. Then it happened again, this time closer and ten times louder. The floor shook and dust filled the air making it harder for her to breathe.