Chapter 8

Unravelling a Challenge

1300 – SAS Garrison, Hereford, UK

Georgie downed the last bite of her sandwich, dusting remnant crumbs from her hands as she looked over the planned protocols one last time before the recruits hit the training field. They would be getting down and dirty with some rather gritty rescue maneuvers. She had rung Iris when she first sat down, always trying to call around midday to check on Daniel. It disturbed her that she had not received further updates from Elvis. The captain usually gave her a play by play accounting when he was on a civvy mission. She looked up when she noticed Peters approaching her, not liking the expression on his face one bit. She vacated her perch on the file cabinet to meet him head on.

"What?!" she clipped tugging at her hair bun.

"Sit back down," Peters ordered.

"Absolutely not," Georgie replied, heart pounding with anticipation.

"You might wanna rethink that corporal."

She defied him, sensing she would end back up on her feet anyway.

"We have a situation," he began and her eyes pleaded for more.

"Tell me dammit!" she said tossing the clipboard aside.

"Well….not we exactly….."

"Peters!"

"OK." He said holding his hands up to fend her off. "I was spot on about some shit hitting the air see….."

"What is happening Peters?!" Georgie crossed her arms not sure if she was more angry or anxious.

Peters exhaled puffing his cheeks as he said, "A train's been hijacked." Georgie's eyes grew big. "The one Elvis and Laura boarded this morning I'm afraid," he added, painfully watching her reaction.

Georgie felt a roar of blood in her ears and instantly lost the color in her face. The sandwich was not setting well in her stomach at the moment and she sucked in a breath of air as though she had been stabbed.

"I'm sorry," was all he could say.

"How do you know this?" she asked grabbing her mobile, willing it to tell her something entirely different. But there were no messages from Elvis. The screen stared back at her devoid of any activity.

Xxxxx

1320 – Undisclosed Location, UK

The clanking of the metal wheels over the metal tracks sounded louder and the ride felt courser. Laura was mesmerized by whatever passed by outside the window. Elvis rested his head back and watched the digital location indicator change before his eyes. He knew they were cycling on a track to nowhere until the hijackers decided otherwise. He also knew they were being followed by government surveillance. There was no way to hide something this massive. Military strategies played over and over in his mind. He had studied and led counter-terrorism missions countless times. He had to get into the minds and under the skins of these bastards. He weighed all vulnerabilities – loss of fuel or power, the end of the track, an airborne assault. His gut twisted with the realization that they were potentially being used as a projectile for an unknown ransom. This was one challenge he wished he did not have to overcome.

"Daddy…" her soft voice pulled him back and he rolled his head towards her.

"I reckon I could jump off and go for help," Laura said.

He half smiled at her courage and innocence. "We're not ready for action yet angel," he said, index knuckle swiping gently over her cheek.

"Well somebody has got to do something!" Woods hissed. "We have no idea what these pricks are up to!"

"Exactly," Elvis said. "Haven't ya heard, patience is a virtue mate." He had the vibration pattern set to a distinctive mode on his mobile that only his team used to communicate when in a tight situation. Moments earlier he had felt the familiar notification tapping against his ankle bone and knew Spanner was mustering the team.

Xxxxx

1345 – London, UK

The pointed heels of Debbie's shoes struck loudly across the tile flooring echoing in the luxurious foyer of Reginald's A-list club.

"Good day Mrs. Gwain." She heard and waved past security on her way to her husband's penthouse office. The lift door could not open soon enough as far as she was concerned, impatiently tugging on the strap of her designer shoulder bag. Once onboard she pushed the express button so hard she had to check to make certain she had not broken a nail. When the lift opened she rushed past the assistant straight away to Reginald's door.

"Mrs Gwain….."

This is no time for formalities Debbie thought. Reginald swung his high-backed leather chair around when he heard the intrusion and was shocked when he saw it was his wife.

"Debra…" Her appearance left no question in his mind that she meant business. "Let me call you back Des. Something just showed up," he said.

"Really?! I am something to you now?" Debbie said shooting the evils his way.

"Darling….that is not what I said.." he tried to smoothly counter.

She glared her disagreement back at him and exploded, "I have been trying to ring you! Haven't you heard the news reports?"

"News reports? No I have not and as you could see, I was on a call," he said sitting back in the plush cushioned leather as if not a care in the world.

"Yes. I can see how important that call was!"

"Now see here! You barged in here….."

"Laura is in trouble!" Debbie yelled, tears beginning to stream down her cheeks streaking her well placed blush.

"It was bound to happen sooner than later Debra. I told you….."

"Shut the fuck up!" she snarled.

"What did you say to me?!" Reginald said standing with a threatening posture.

"Her train has been hijacked!"

Reginald felt the words punch him in the gut. "You have got to be joking."

"Wish I was, but I am not," she said feeling defeated as the tears freely flowed, wetting her blouse and she did not care.

"What are the authorities doing about it?" he demanded.

"No one knows. No one knows who they are or what they want, but they have my baby girl!" Her voice crumbled and Reginald stared at his wife, eventually going to her and placing his arms around her. The child was a challenge to him, even a thorn at times, but she is Debbie's child.

"Has she tried to contact you?" he asked.

"No. Nothing."

"You said Elvis was accompanying her…"

She was sobbing now. "Yes. Thank God he is. I never should have let her travel alone in the first place."

Reginald's jaw clenched. He was responsible for putting that thought in her head. If there was any guilt to be had, he was responsible.