The Bomber

By: AliasCWN

Chapter 7

After Tully left Hitch sat on his bed and worried. He tried to read a book to pass the time but he couldn't concentrate. He was pacing the floor of the room again when he heard the explosion. He hurried to the window but it faced in the wrong direction. He didn't even bother to look out because he had been warned to stay away from the window in case someone wanted to take a shot at him. He stayed to one side of the window for several minutes trying to make sense of the bits of conversations he heard as people rushed past. The little he did hear convinced him that the people running past didn't know any more than he did so far.

He heard someone in the hall yell fire as voices began to mingle outside his door. He had been told to keep his door locked unless Tully or one of his guards said otherwise. A fist ponded on his door and a voice he recognized as belonging to one of his guards yelled at him to open up. Rushing to the door he opened it for the guard. Heavy smoke was pouring under the door and billowed into the room as the door opened. His guard started coughing, motioning for him to come out.

"The barracks are on fire!" The guard yelled. "We have to get out of here."

Hitch looked past him to see the second guard down with an MP in a gas mask standing over him trying to lift him to his feet. He rushed forward to help but the guard waved him on. "Keep going, I've got him. Use the back stairs, the fire is out front."

Hitch and his guard headed for the back stairs. They were halfway down when the guard tripped and fell, nearly taking Hitch with him. Hitch twisted to see the guard with the gas mask coming down behind him.

"Where's the guard?"

"He stayed to help some other guys trapped in their rooms." The guard answered. "Help me get this guy to the truck."

Hitch bent down to help pick up the fallen guard. He saw the club coming down out of the corner of his eye but not in time to duck it. The wooden baton connected with the back of his head and he crumpled to the stairs.

The MP in the gas mask bent down and tossed Hitch over his shoulder. Leaving the guard where he fell he hurried down the stairs to the truck parked outside the back door. He lifted Hitch over the tailgate and followed him into the back of the truck. He cuffed his hands behind his back and secured his feet before gagging him. After checking to be sure no one was watching he jumped over the tailgate and climbed into the cab. The truck drove away while everyone was watching the barracks. Once clear he pulled the gas mask off and drove slowly along the street, being careful not to attract any attention.

When Hitch came around he was in a room with no windows. A heavy chain ran from the handcuffs to a ring imbedded in the stone wall. Hitch tried to wiggle the ring but it was solid. The chain itself was thick with welded links that left no way to pull them apart. His feet had been secured with another chain that led to another ring in the floor. He tried that ring too but there was not much give there either.

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness he tried to see around the room. The floor was stone, brushed smooth with years of wear. The walls were stone too but they were rougher, with sharp edges protruding in places. If he had been tied with rope he may have been able to free himself if given enough time. The chains made that possibility less likely. He straightened and leaned his back against the wall. The only exit was the door he assumed he had entered. He could see dim light leaking in under the door. He listened but he didn't hear any sounds outside the door.

His head hurt from the blow and his lungs hurt from the smoke. He took a deep breath and started coughing. He tried to stifle it, not wanting his captors to know he was awake. The sight of the masked MP had surprised him. An MP was the last person he would have expected to kidnap him. He thought about the two guards and hoped they had gotten out of the burning building safely. He sat in the damp room and tried to decide what he could do to escape, and nothing came to mind.

It wasn't hard to figure out how the bomber had stayed free so long, no one was looking for an MP. He knew the guy would have the advantage in the search because he would know where the other MP's were looking for him. Hitch hoped someone figured it out before the bomber tried to get Troy again. He leaned against the cool wall and fell asleep waiting for the next development.

The creak of the door awakened him from a restless sleep. He lowered his head and pretended to be asleep as a lantern was carried into the room. Through half closed lids he watched three men enter his prison. One stopped just inside the door while the other two came closer. One held the lantern as the third man knelt next to Hitch.

Hitch felt a hand grip his hair and lift his head. He opened his eyes to stare into the face of a scruffy Arab. The man smelled like old grease and spices. His black teeth were crooked and some of them were missing. The foul odor of his breath made Hitch want to gag. A scraggly beard hung limp nearly to the man's waist, streaked with gray and dirty looking. Beady black eyes spaced too close together stared into Hitch's face.

Hitch tried to look defiant but the man only laughed in delight. He ran his fingers through Hitch's blond locks. He turned to say something to the man holding the lantern. The other man laughed and nodded his head in agreement. Hitch took advantage of the distraction to clamp his teeth down on the man's wrist. The Arab jumped away, pulling his arm free and shaking it. He backhanded Hitch across the face in his anger. Then, perhaps thinking he may have damaged the goods, he knelt clear of Hitch and studied his face.

Blood trickled from the corner of the private's mouth. A split lip was a fair price to pay for having done a little damage of his own Hitch decided. He licked the blood away and grinned at his captor. The man holding the lantern seemed more upset then the one Hitch had bitten. He looked like he wanted to continue the punishment but the other man stopped him. Giving Hitch one more appraising look, he turned and led the way from the room. The one holding the lantern threw Hitch a warning glare before following the other man out.

The third man stayed behind until the others were gone before he stepped out of the room and pulled the door shut behind him. Hitch heard a lock snap shut before the last of the footsteps faded down the hall.

Alone again Hitch leaned his aching head against the cool wall and tried to think. He was no stranger to Arabs taking note of his fair skin and blond hair. They seemed to like his blue eyes too, especially the women. Normally he just ignored their interest as they were only curious. This had felt much more sinister. When the Arab grabbed his hair he had felt a tremor of fear run through him. He had seen slave traders on occasion, and he hated them. He knew if that was to be his fate he had to escape before he could be taken from the base. He tried frantically to come up with a plan that gave him a chance. That was Troy's department, coming up with escape plans. He wouldn't wish for the sergeant to be captured by slavers but that didn't stop him from wishing that the sergeant was there.

The time slipped away without any new ideas. He was thinking of suicide by slaver by the time he heard the footsteps outside the door again. He wondered if he could make the slaver mad enough to kill him outright. Remembering the way the slaver had stopped the other man; he decided that the other Arab would be a better target. He hadn't looked like he would have a problem killing his prisoner. Hitch braced himself to fight.

The lock clicked and the door creaked open. The faint light from outside didn't penetrate the darkness of the small room. There was no lantern light to identify his visitor this time. Hitch pulled his legs up so he could use his feet as a weapon. He tensed in the darkness, waiting for his target to get closer. If he could only get in one good kick he was sure the Arab would react in the necessary manner. If biting the slaver had made him angry then getting kicked was nearly a sure bet to get him angry enough to kill.

The chains on his wrists rattled as he shifted positions. His visitor stopped, apparently listening for his location. Hitch rattled the chains again to try to draw him nearer. The dark form inched closer, almost near enough for him to carry out his plan.

He held his breath as the visitor stopped again. Only a few more feet, that's all he needed. His muscles started to cramp from being chained in the damp room for so long. The more he tensed in anticipation of the strike the more they knotted and protested. He tried to quietly work the cramps out while he waited for the visitor to move closer, first one arm and then the other. Moving his legs meant losing the advantage if the Arab moved too close before he could strike so he opted to wait until later to relieve those cramps. The silence stretched on as each man waited for the other to move.

The visitor finally took the next step. Hitch braced to kick out. A match flared and Hitch got his first confirmation of his visitor's identity. He froze in shock.