The Soldier Next Door

It has been half an hour since we have taken the fork in the road where we found Ana’s bracelet. I am getting frustrated that we have not seen any other clues but have only been following a set of footprints that we believe to be hers. I am starting to feel somewhat hopeless but not even near to giving up. I know in my heart that we are on the right path and that any minute now we shall find the camp to which we believe that would have taken her.

And as I look over to my men, I can see that I am pushing them beyond a limit, but they can, in return, see my determination to find the woman that I love. It is with this determination that I refuse to stop, but just as we are forced to stop for a few seconds to analyze what our next step shall be, in the far distance, there is a flicker of light. Without saying a single word, I point for them to look in the same direction. It is with much relief that we breathe a hope of fresh air. With a newfound determination, we slowly approach the outer borders of what appears to be a rather big camp.

Gibbs and Williams move around the left with me, while Johnson and Lewis go to the right to survey the situation. Between the trees and the thick brush, we weave our way, making sure not to make a sound. But there seems to be quite oddly no one that is patrolling the borders; they must feel rather confident that their location is safe. But this does not mean that we can proceed to crawl our way quietly inside, for, by the number of the tents, I can positively say that we shall be somewhat outnumbered.

So in the shadows, we lay, waiting to see any signs of Ana, but nothing, not that we would believe that we would see. The logical approach would be to have her, and god forbid that I even have to say this, but they must have her tied up inside one of these tents. Now the question is, what are we going to do? Hide here in the dark and hope that we can catch them off guard and get to Ana unnoticed. Or do we send one back to camp for them to send back up? The thing is were are not here to cause a minor war with a bunch of militants. I do believe our logical approach shall then have to be for Ray to come and negotiate her release.

…Ana POV…

As those words escape his lips, I shiver at the thought of what game this sick fuck would have in mind. Do I even want to dare and ask? I know that whatever it is that I can not make a sound. I do not begin to understand what they can possibly get out of torturing a woman, unless; god forbid, I even think of it.

So as the last of his men leave the tent, I fight the urge to scream back at them not to leave me alone with this man. His wicked laughter consumes every bone in my trembling body. And the closer and closer he moves to me, I hear it just deepen with satisfaction. There is no way that anything good is about to happen from here.

I crunch my eyes tightly close and hope that if I open them again that he will be gone, but I am not so lucky, for this does seem to infuriate him.

“Open your eyes, my dear; I want you to look me in the eyes as I teach you a lesson for stepping your feet onto my ground.”

His ground? What ego does this idiot seem to have? Well, if he only knew, there is a Marine Camp just on the other side of his so-called ground. But that is not something I am yet to tell him.

“So I want you to think carefully about how you are going to answer me, for it shall determine how rough I will play.”

Now, if he thinks that scares me, will it does? Who am I to lie to myself. The chances are that I will find out what he means by rough. With this in mind, he lays his hand on my arm, I wish I could say it is gently, but I can already tell that things are rough.

“Where did you come from? What were you doing on my beach?”

I only remain quiet; his grip on my arm intensifies, I can feel the skin bruise from underneath the pressure.

“Where did you come from? Are there any more out there?”

Still, there is no answer to come from my lips; he shall not hear me say a word. I cannot put the lives of the rest of the platoon in danger, not even to mention those of Ethan.

“I shall not ask you again. Where is the rest of you?”

Then I watch as he stands up and, much to my horror, see him flick open his buckle.

…Ethan POV…

I have not seen anyone who could nearly resemble a leader of the group; he shall normally have at least two men following him around. All I can see is a bunch of stupid militants that could have been taken out a long while ago, for they do not seem to be concerned with the safety around them.

We have been lying here in the shadows for what is now almost a quarter of an hour. I have sent Lewis back to go get Ray; the sooner that we can get in there and get them to give up Ana, the sooner my heart will come to a rest. So all we can do now is lay here and wait; wait is such a dreaded word, especially when you don’t have the time.

And it is time that makes me watch every single tent from which someone steps out. I watch how they carry themselves; it is usually the overconfident asshole that thinks he does not need to carry a gun. He finds himself invisible, and he believes that such power gives him the right to do whatever he wishes to. I have seen some of these women come back from these militant camps that are all beaten and scratched up. These are not men; they are, in fact, a bunch of pigs, and should I find that one of these pigs have laid a hand on my Ana, they are going to wish that they cut it off themselves.

As I look over to Gibbs, he cannot seem to find the words to say; all he does is gives me a reassuring pat on the back. Reassurance is what I do need, for the more I stare into this camp, the more I am starting to question if she is truly here. But if not here, then where else. So I bite back my doubts and hide my head deeper into the thick grass. There is a sign; she has to be in here.

But then that is when I see him, he is rather big and has the look of a man that seems to hold great power. That has to be him, that has to be their leader, and if by anything, I can for certain say that is the tent where they have Ana in. But he only stands for a second outside before he goes back in, this gets my heart racing, and my mind takes flight with so many bad thoughts.Exclusive © material by Nô(/v)elDrama.Org.

All I can hear behind me is Gibbs shout out as I jump out from where I was hiding.

“Ethan, stop!”

…Ana POV…

I truly wish that I did answer him, for he seems quite enraged. Then just as I think that he is about to hurt me, he gets up and walks to the door. But he does not leave; he calls for one of his men to bring him something that looks like a radio. When he comes back, though, I see that he has a tape recorder in his hand. The fear of seven horrors flows over my body. Is he about to record some ransom tape? Or even worse, is he going to tape it while he tortures me. In an instant, all that speeds through my mind is that I am never tell Ethan how sorry I am. All of this would have been for nothing.

And as I watch this man click the tape on record, I am fully expecting him to come down on me with full force. Though I do not see the resemblance of anything that he can torture me with. It is just him and me with me tied up on this old rusty hospital bed. There is nothing else in this room, apart from one man standing outside the tent, which I assume have been tasked not to let anyone in.

Then as he comes to stand next to me, he slides off his belt that he only but a few seconds flicked open. Next, he pulls his thick jacket over his shoulders and drops it next to him on the chair, but as he starts to pop each button of his shirt open, he once again smirks at me.

“It is time to teach you that lesson.”

And against everything that I have been trained, I do the very thing I am not allowed, and that is scream out.

“Please stop!”