THIS IS MY OWN NARRATIVE AND IS NOT IN ANY WAY RELATED TO ANYTHING WRITTEN BY TONY GROUNDS, OR IN ANY WAY AS GOOD AS HIS.
It had been three long months since Charles James had seen his beloved Molly and he couldn't get a calmness. He kept re-living the all too fleeting wonderful night they had shared in Bath, he kept seeing her beautiful face, and yearning to feel her soft smooth skin and cradle her in his arms. Facetime had helped, when the signal worked, but once a week was not enough. He understood that she had needed to go back and lay her ghosts, and he knew she would do a good job in training the Afghan medic corp. He could just imagine her trying to explain 'you gonna need a stitch', and chuckled to himself. But it was time for her to come back and for them to decide on their future. 'Their' future, Charles couldn't imagine life without his Molly and hoped she felt the same.
The phone rang – 'Qaseem?' how are you, where are you? The colour drained from Charles face and his hands began to shake. 'What, how, when, where is she'? Qaseem at the other end was explaining that Molly had insisted he take her to see Bashira, dressed head to toe as a local so the soldiers wouldn't see she was a European woman. She had gone into the school and spoken to Bashira. They then left, got into the car and were driving back to base when the car was rammed and armed insurgents opened the doors, dragged Molly out and clubbed him across the head. He just re-called Molly screaming 'help me' before he fell into unconsciousness. When he came round he was surrounded by locals who told him that the insurgents had thrown the girl into a truck and driven off.
He was calling Captain James from his mobile while he was waiting on Major Beck to reach him. 'I'm so sorry Captain James, Molly confided in me about you. She said she never thought that coming from where she did, and you coming from where you did, that you would ever look at her. She told me how much she loved you and hoped that you would wait for her. And now….' He tailed off tears choking his words. 'I will call you back when Major Beck reaches me. I'm so so sorry, Molly is like a daughter to me and I will do everything in my power to find her and bring her back to you'. The line dropped and so did Charles. He had never felt so frightened, so powerless, so far away. He sat on the floor sobbing and after what seemed like an eternity the phone rang again.
'James' – it was Major Beck 'James, Qaseem has just briefed me on what happened' Beck knew about his and Molly's relationship as James had had to tell him at the private de-briefing on what happened at the check point with Badrai. James had said it was all his fault, he had taken his eye off the ball. Beck however commended him and Molly for keeping their relationship hidden and said that they were both good soldiers and he wanted them back serving under him.
Now however his tone was sombre and very serious. He didn't want to mention what the insurgents were capable of with a woman, he knew James was only too aware of that.
'James, James – are you there?' Charles pulled himself together and tried to get into Captain mode as he knew he was no good to Molly if he was a jibbering wreck. 'Sir – permission to fly out from Brize Norton tonight and join you' There was silence at the other end for what seemed like an eternity. 'James you've not long left Headley Court and re-hab, it's against army protocol for you to come back into a war zone'. Charles thought 'then I'll come back as a civilian mercenary Sir. Anyway I can I'm coming back to get Molly, with or without the Army's blessing'. 'Very well, let me clear it with above. Make your way to Brize Norton and I'll call you in an hour'.
Charles couldn't remember anything in that hour. He dressed again in his combat's and full Army kit all the time pushing thoughts of what could be happening to Molly, out of his head. He jumped into his car for the journey to Oxfordshire, steeling himself into Army mode and trying to become emotionally uninvolved. Fuck it was so hard but he had to do it if he was to find his adorable Molly. His phone rang and he pulled over sharply onto the hard shoulder. 'James', Major Beck's voice sounded gruff. 'Command have cleared you on the grounds that you have questioned the insurgents they think are involved, and together with Qaseem, you will be able to recognise them' Charles's thoughts momentarily strayed back to that time with Major Morley when Molly had been slapped in the face by one of them. He shuddered at his thoughts and focused on Brize Norton. He arrived at BN, screeched his car into a parking space, grabbed his rucksack and ran through the departure area. They were expecting him, put on alert by Major Beck , and waved him through. He was to be a passenger on an aircraft carrying troops to help with the breakdown of Bastion. Breakdown. His thoughts again went back to Molly 'what will happen when we pull out of here Sir' for once his heart overtook him – fucking bastards, who cares.
The flight seemed forever and he shut his mind off from the banter going on around him. All he could think of was Molly. His beautiful, adorable, cheeky Molly. Where was she, was she alive, were they torturing her or worse. His heart was breaking but his face showed no emotion. Finally they landed and he pulled rank and went to the front of the queue, jumping down onto the tarmac, rifle in hand. 'James, over here' he heard Beck calling and ran across to the waiting jeep. Qaseem was inside, steely faced with his head bandaged, his sad eyes looking straight into Charles 's red rimmed eyes. They gave each other a brief hug, no words needed to be said. 'Go' Major Beck said to the driver. They drove perilously across pot holed roads, careering from side to side in the jeep. Finally they reached base, jumped from the jeep and raced towards the Ops tent where Major Morley was waiting. 'Captain James' Morley extended his hand, Charles shook it and caught his eyes. They showed deep concern. 'Sir' Kinders came in. 'Kinders', Charles shook his hand. 'Right gather round' Morley said.