Family Ties 2: Forever

Chapter 17: Deliquus, PraesumiturMortuus

Alex lay still in his small cell. Waiting to be taken and tortured. He knew it would happen at some time. There was a loud screech at the door and it opened, letting in a little light into the pitch black cell. Alex curled himself up in a ball for protection, even though he knew that it wouldn't matter. Three men squeezed into the small space and picked him up. Alex struggled as much as possible but to no avail. He was taken to another room and strapped down to a table, a bag placed over his head.

"What do you want from me?" Alex yelled, voice muffled by the bag.

"One of your friends is already dead. Join us Alex. We could use someone of your expertise."

"Fucking arseholes!" He yelled back. A drop of water fell onto the bag and seeped through its cotton fabric. Alex tensed and took a breath, realising what was about to come. More water came crashing down onto his face, lasting longer than he could hold his breath for. Alex began to flail as much as he could, but he could feel two other people holding him down, despite the bonds holding him to the table. Finally, the water stopped, but Alex was already unconscious.

A couple of minutes later, Alex woke, the soaked black bag still over his head, the water felt cold against his face. A tap on his shoulder made him move his head to the side. He sensed the man who was torturing him bend down so that his mouth was next to Alex ear.

"I'm telling you now Alex, you've got two options." He started, there was a rapid knock on the door and a younger sounding man burst in.

"They've gone, boss!" He informed him, out of breath.

"What do you mean?" The boss's eyes narrowed. Behind the bag, Alex felt a smirk creep across his face. Yes, they had left him here, but they had got out and knowing his team they would send for back up and he would be out of here soon. He just had to endure a couple more days of this torture and he could go home to his wife and kids. Just thinking of them, he felt a tear escape from his eye and drop off the side of his face into the already wet fabric. The bag was abruptly removed from his head and he felt it slam back down on the wooden table, he winced momentarily.

"What were you expecting?" Alex said hoarsely, words coated in sarcasm, only to then find himself coughing and spluttering. The man punched him in the face and Alex felt his nose explode with blood. He kept his mouth shut to stop himself from swallowing too much. That would most certainly bruise.

The straps were released and his hands were tied behind his back with plastic cable ties that cut into his already horribly bruised skin. Another bag was placed over his head. As Alex was moved from that room to a different one, he felt disorientated and it was beginning to get hard to breathe, the mix of adrenaline kicking around his system and the overload of water in his stomach and lungs wasn't helping.

Alex found himself being towed from room to room, day in and day out. He told himself he would not lose hope because losing hope meant losing himself. Help would come, he knew it. Days and night blurred together in a foggy mess, he had no idea how long he had been here.

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Cobra and Lynx stood quietly in their room above the main communications room. They could hear the bustling and shouting going on downstairs but both ignored it. Lynx stood by the window staring at his mobile phone, waiting for any news of either Craig who was currently in surgery or any news on Alex. It had been three days. Pangs of guilt smashed through him, he did his best to ignore them but they were slowly eating away at is conscience. They had left Alex there, in the hands of the people who kidnapped them and were about to torture information out of them.

He took a deep breath and turned to face Cobra who had sat on the edge of Alex's bed.

"I'm going to go and speak to Major Duncan." He told him and made to leave the room. Just as he opened the door David called out to him.

"He won't let us go back there, Harry. Craig's in the hospital and God knows where Alex is."

"There's no harm in trying." Harry retorted sharply, angered by David's lack of concern.

He jogged down the narrow staircase and pushed open the door at the bottom and made his way along the short corridor that led to the communications room.

Knocking on the door, Harry found his gut twisting and churning with anticipation and nerves. A shout from inside and he opened the door.

"Good evening," Major Duncan greeted. "What do you need?" He opened a file in front of him, flicking quickly through the pages.

"Sir, I think we should go back…" He said. He watched as he pulled out Alex's basic file sheet. At the bottom was a blank, unsigned, undated line.

"I'm sorry, Lance Corporal, it's been seventy-two hours. We have to report Sergeant Rider MIA." Major Duncan took out a large stamp from the drawer to his left and pressed it into a red ink pad. MIA was stamped at an angle over the basic report that would have normally been hidden in safety. It displayed the soldiers' credentials such as name, date of birth and their aliases and their identification image. Harry watched as the officer stood and placed the sheet back in the large file and then into the safe behind him, sealing it with a fingerprint scan.

"If he contacts us, in any way, we will go back, I can assure you and believe me, I hope he does, he's one of our finest sergeants, but for now 'Qui audet adipiscitur'."

Three weeks later

Alex forced himself to sit up against the back wall of his cell as the sun shone through the smallest crack in the corner of the dense brick wall. He coughed, stomach hurting and making him feel nauseous. One eye was swollen shut after one of the men punched him in the face repeatedly. His lip was split and encrusted with blood, as was his nose. Alex knew that his shoulder was dislocated from the fuzzy feeling in his hand. The days were become longer, more drawn out. He found he slept more, he was tortured more too, but he gave up nothing. Not a single soul. His eyes drooped shut, losing consciousness, losing the battle, but just before his body gave up a sharp, tingling pain ran down his left arm as if he had knocked his funny bone. He ignored it, but it kept on shocking him, every minute or so. Then he remembered and the smallest of smiles crept onto the corner of Alex's bloody lips for a split second.

Eight Hours Later

There was a bash on his door, startling him, they had come once again. Another bash. This was new; it was as if they couldn't gain entrance to his cell. A stomach churning, nervous feeling came over Alex that wasn't nausea or losing consciousness, or the thought of being dragged away. This was his rescue this was his ticket out of here, he thought as he remembered what had happened just a few hours ago.

There were two loud bangs; sparks flew from the small gap at the side of the door where the hinges were. The sound echoed deafeningly through the small space Alex was in; he moved his hands up to cover his ears, shoulders sparking with searing pain.

It wasn't long before he felt people grabbing him and pulling him up from the floor. He made no effort to see who it was or to get away from them, let alone tell them they were hurting him. He let them carry his out of the building, keeping his eyes tight shut and concentrating on his breathing that was becoming more ragged by the minute.

Cool air hit his Alex's skin where his clothes had been ripped and torn apart. He couldn't find the strength to shiver and soon felt the cold seep through to his bones. He longed for unconsciousness but part of him was keeping him awake. The loud thrum of a helicopter could be heard and Alex closed his eyes, trying to force his body to lose consciousness, hoping he would wake up in a hospital, his wife by his side and that would be the end of it.

That was an extra long chapter (comparatively) for the long wait... There is an image to go with this that can be found on my DeviantART account... locatable from my profile :)

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