Molly was paralysed with fear. She saw Qaseem lying on the ground, she saw him raise himself , trying to get up, as they dragged her into a waiting truck. She saw him fall back unconscious, blood pouring from his head. She looked round the truck. There were four men in the dark green uniform redolent of the area, their faces hidden, only their hard cold eyes staring at her. They shouted to the driver and he accelerated so fast that Molly was thrown onto the floor of the jeep. She pulled herself up only to be pushed hard into the side of the truck by one of the men screaming instructions to the driver and saying something to the others in the truck. He appeared to be in charge. Molly tried desperately to think of what she had been taught in training for just such a scenario. But all she could see was Bashira, Qaseem and her beloved Charles.
Then she passed out. She woke up on the floor face down, sand in her mouth, blood seeping from her head. She moved slowly feeling her legs, arms, body and eventually her head. Thankfully the cut wasn't deep but looked bad as it was above her right eye on her temple. She must have done it when they pushed her against the side of the truck. How long had she been here, where was she? Oh god what if they tortured her, what if they killed her. The realisation of the seriousness of the situation sunk in and she began to shake uncontrollably. Captain James, Boss Man, Charles, help me, tell me this is all a dream and that you are going to come any minute, pick me up, and hold me tight. She heard shouting and 4 Afghans pushed their way through the battered door and stood over her. One kicked her in the leg and two others hauled her up on to her feet. The leader walked up to her, cupped her face in his right hand and pushed it up towards the roof of the building, his sooty black eyes staring into hers and his face pushing right into hers so their noses were touching. 'Molly Dawes you betrayed my family. You took Bashira. You killed Badrai, my father. Now you will find what we think of women Molly Dawes'. He gripped her chin and threw her back against the stone wall. Molly groaned with pain as her head hit the wall. She felt warm sticky blood running down her neck. Abruptly the four men left. She couldn't stop the tears from falling and collapsed on the floor sobbing, her head throbbing. Charles, Charles please come and find me, she screamed silently. I need you so much, I need your arms around me, I need to feel your strength. I'm so frightened.
Eventually her tears subsided and she leaned against the wall and gently felt the back of her head, the pain was agonising, the cut deep. She had nothing to hold against it. Her Afghan dress was ripped to shreds so she tore off both sleeves and rolled them into a pack and held them against the wound. Under the dress she had on her combats in readiness for the VIP reception she was to attend after getting back from seeing Bashira. She felt in her uniform pockets. She had some bandage and tape. She opened the bandage pack with her teeth and slowly started to wrap it round her head, when she finished she taped it up. In so much pain she lay down on the rock and sand floor and drifted into an uneasy sleep all the time calling out silently to Charles.