Chapter 16

For a week Jack was instructed to drug Martha, he tried to explain that it could harm the baby, but Trevor was having none of it, and made Jack do it. For the first 6 days Jack had only injected a few of droplets into Martha's arm, which he achieved by sneakily emptying most of it out into his coffee cup, or anywhere he could find, then acting as if he was injecting the full dosage. However, on the last day of the week, Trevor came in with him and sat by his side as Jack injected it. Jack emptied as much as he could get away with, but he still had a fairly large dosage left in the syringe. He tried as many things as he could think of, but none worked, he was forced to inject it into Martha's sleeping body. Sure, it wasn't enough to kill her or harm the baby, but he still didn't like the idea that a few droplets of drugs were running through her blood stream, let alone a small dosage.

Although she wasn't pregnant, Martha's sickness, tiredness and headaches persisted, along with Callum's worry. He didn't want to alarm her, so he pretended as if it was probably a virus, even though he knew it was strange that no one else had got it, but Martha. Martha was oblivious to the worry Callum felt, and just got on with it, thinking that it'd soon pass over a few weeks.

The next morning, Jack got a phone call off Peter, taking him off the case.

"What?" Jack asked. "Why?"

"Dave Hutchinson." That's all Peter needed to say, that 4-syllable name answered all of Jack's questions.

"Right." Jack sighed angrily. "But I can't, I need to stay here, why take me off the case? I'm working fine, Trevor trusts me now, I could be wrapping this up in a matter of days!" Jack pleaded.

"Nope, you're not allowed to work undercover for the police if you're suspended from your duties."

"What?" Jack asked, shocked.

"Oh, sorry mate, my bad." Peter coughed, collecting a more serious tone. "Constable, you are suspended pending an investigation." The phone went silent.

"But I can't leave Martha." Jack muttered.

"Mate, you're not, she's gone."

"No! She's not, listen, I didn't want to say anything because I knew you'd take me off the case for being too emotionally involved, but.."

"Well?"

"Martha's one of the four that are being held here." Jack explained. "I know it's crazy, but it's wonderful at the same time. She's alive Peter! And I need to make sure she'll get out of the investigation safe this time!" Pleaded Jack. Peter sighed. "Come on mate, she is not in Trevor's good books… I can't lose her again." The silence repeated as Peter thought for a moment.

"You've been suspended, you are not allowed to work in a police investigation, sorry mate, it's the law."

"But-" Peter interrupted Jack's plea.

"However, if you were to be captured by this Trevor, and held there amongst the other prisoners and then tried to fight your way out, then that's nothing to do with me…" Peter said, sneakily. Jack was ecstatic.

"Thanks mate!"

"For what?" Peter laughed. "Good luck Constable." 'Hmm, how am I going to do this then' Jack thought, but he knew exactly what he had to do, he just wasn't going to enjoy it.

Jack stood at the top of the cliff. He walked around the land, staring at the surroundings. He carefully looked at the ground and knelt down, gently brushing over the blood stained sandy rock. He looked to his left. 'That's where Martha would have been.' He thought, and slowly walked over towards the spot. He swallowed hard as he peered over the edge at the sharp, violent drop. He was risking his life to do this, he wasn't sure if Trevor was there watching, if he would catch him, after all, Jack was only aware of the people he caught, not of the people he missed. Even though he was scared that he might not be caught, not once did he think of not jumping. He had to do it, to save Martha and her baby. He took a steady breath, and closed his eyes. This was it, his life was in the balance, his life depended on a crazy man with a net, but he was willing to bet it all for Martha. With that final thought, he jumped. His body plunged downwards, towards the crashing waves, towards the rocks, towards his death. All he could think about was how long it was taking him to be caught, how long had he actually been falling? Too long.