Hostage (Bodyguard #1)(86)
Hazim shook his head. ‘No, I don’t doubt the cause. But I never thought it would come to this.’
As Bahir ran into the room, Malik gave a thin smile. ‘It was always going to come to this.’
‘HELP!’ shouted Connor, waving in desperation at the camera lens. ‘PLEASE! She’s having an epileptic fit!’
Behind him, Alicia was thrashing wildly on the mattress. Her eyes were rolled back into her head, only the whites showing. Her breathing was becoming laboured and Connor could hear wet choking gasps like the sound of a dying fish.
He screamed again at the camera, praying that someone was watching or listening. ‘PLEASE! HELP! She could die!’
Just as he was about to give up hope, the cell door opened.
‘Thank goodness,’ Connor cried as the black-robed giant entered. ‘She needs a doctor. Right now. The stress of that mock execution must have caused it.’
Whether the giant understood him or not, he pushed Connor irritably aside and bent over to examine the writhing girl. As soon as his attention was on Alicia, Connor grabbed the man’s head, twisted it and drove it downwards. Taken totally off-guard, the terrorist was unable to stop Connor’s surprise head-twist attack. His huge mass toppled over. But, rather than guiding the man’s head to the ground as he’d been taught in buddyguard class, Connor used all his strength to smash the terrorist’s skull into the concrete floor. The giant grunted and went limp.
Alicia immediately stopped fitting and sat up. ‘I really should be an actress,’ she said, managing a smile despite the circumstances.
‘You can collect your Oscar when we get out of here,’ Connor replied, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet. His plan had worked perfectly.
As they ran for the open door, Alicia stumbled and let out a cry. Connor turned to see the terrorist had seized her ankle. Dazed and disorientated as he was, the man, snarling like a pit-bull, refused to let go.
If you’re forced to fight, end it quick, his combat instructor had said.
Spinning round, Connor kicked the man squarely in the jaw. Teeth flew and the terrorist lost his grip.
How’s that for Pain Assisted Learning! thought Connor.
But the giant still wouldn’t stay down. Spitting blood, he made a desperate lunge for them. Connor shoved Alicia into the corridor as the terrorist bore down on them like a charging bull, his eyes filled with pure rage. Connor threw himself against the cell door. It banged shut and Alicia turned the key just as the door shuddered under the terrorist’s impact.
But mercifully the reinforced lock held.
‘What now?’ she whispered, glancing nervously along the shadowy corridor.
‘Shhh!’ cautioned Connor, putting a finger to his lips and checking the room opposite. It was empty apart from the array of electronic gadgetry and the computer that he’d spotted before. Darting into the room, he wondered if he could send a message. But the keyboard was in Arabic and, besides, he still had no idea where they were. Connor glanced over at a second monitor and saw the giant hurling himself against the cell door, his screams of outrage crackling over the tinny speaker. Connor switched it off. If the other terrorists didn’t know about their accomplice’s fate, it might give him and Alicia a few more precious seconds to escape. Turning to leave the room, he was astonished to find his smartphone lying on the desk. Grabbing it, he powered it up and pressed his thumb to the fingerprint recognition scanner. The home screen appeared. But any hopes of making an emergency call were quickly shattered. There was no signal.
Alicia touched his arm, urging him to hurry up. Connor nodded and shoved the phone in his pocket. Hopefully, he’d get reception above ground. Silently beckoning Alicia to follow him, he crept along the corridor towards the stairwell, pausing only to check the video room was clear. It was deserted.
There were no weapons either – just the ominous black flag and camera on show. Connor steeled himself to climb the darkened stairs, unarmed.
He took it one step at a time, terrified one of the wooden treads would creak under his weight and alert the other terrorists. Alicia stuck close behind, her breathing loud in the darkness. Neither knew what would await them at the top and Connor feared they’d come face to face with someone before they managed to escape the basement. If that happened, they’d have nowhere to run.
But they reached the top of the staircase undetected. A solid wooden door now blocked their route. Connor grasped the handle and slowly turned it. To his relief – and surprise – the door wasn’t locked. Pushing it open a fraction, he put his eye to the crack. Beyond was a bright hallway with several rooms leading off from it and what looked like the main entrance door at the far end. He could hear voices. But otherwise the hallway was empty.
Ready? he mouthed to Alicia.
She nodded.
They slipped out and closed the door quietly behind them. Now dangerously exposed, Connor kept Alicia close as they tiptoed along. They were almost to the first doorway, a kitchen coming into view, when a terrorist stepped out.
Connor and Alicia found themselves confronted by a young man in his early twenties. No longer in his traditional Middle Eastern robes, the terrorist wore jeans and a blue office shirt. He was carrying a pot of steaming coffee on a tray and stood stock-still, shocked by the hostages’ unexpected appearance.
For a moment, no one moved.