How’s that for Pain Assisted Learning! thought Connor.
But the giant still wouldn’t stay down. Spitting blood, he made a desperate lunge for them. Connor shoved Alicia into the corridor as the terrorist bore down on them like a charging bull, his eyes filled with pure rage. Connor threw himself against the cell door. It banged shut and Alicia turned the key just as the door shuddered under the terrorist’s impact.
But mercifully the reinforced lock held.
‘What now?’ she whispered, glancing nervously along the shadowy corridor.
‘Shhh!’ cautioned Connor, putting a finger to his lips and checking the room opposite. It was empty apart from the array of electronic gadgetry and the computer that he’d spotted before. Darting into the room, he wondered if he could send a message. But the keyboard was in Arabic and, besides, he still had no idea where they were. Connor glanced over at a second monitor and saw the giant hurling himself against the cell door, his screams of outrage crackling over the tinny speaker. Connor switched it off. If the other terrorists didn’t know about their accomplice’s fate, it might give him and Alicia a few more precious seconds to escape. Turning to leave the room, he was astonished to find his smartphone lying on the desk. Grabbing it, he powered it up and pressed his thumb to the fingerprint recognition scanner. The home screen appeared. But any hopes of making an emergency call were quickly shattered. There was no signal.
Alicia touched his arm, urging him to hurry up. Connor nodded and shoved the phone in his pocket. Hopefully, he’d get reception above ground. Silently beckoning Alicia to follow him, he crept along the corridor towards the stairwell, pausing only to check the video room was clear. It was deserted.
There were no weapons either – just the ominous black flag and camera on show. Connor steeled himself to climb the darkened stairs, unarmed.
He took it one step at a time, terrified one of the wooden treads would creak under his weight and alert the other terrorists. Alicia stuck close behind, her breathing loud in the darkness. Neither knew what would await them at the top and Connor feared they’d come face to face with someone before they managed to escape the basement. If that happened, they’d have nowhere to run.
But they reached the top of the staircase undetected. A solid wooden door now blocked their route. Connor grasped the handle and slowly turned it. To his relief – and surprise – the door wasn’t locked. Pushing it open a fraction, he put his eye to the crack. Beyond was a bright hallway with several rooms leading off from it and what looked like the main entrance door at the far end. He could hear voices. But otherwise the hallway was empty.
Ready? he mouthed to Alicia.
She nodded.
They slipped out and closed the door quietly behind them. Now dangerously exposed, Connor kept Alicia close as they tiptoed along. They were almost to the first doorway, a kitchen coming into view, when a terrorist stepped out.
Connor and Alicia found themselves confronted by a young man in his early twenties. No longer in his traditional Middle Eastern robes, the terrorist wore jeans and a blue office shirt. He was carrying a pot of steaming coffee on a tray and stood stock-still, shocked by the hostages’ unexpected appearance.
For a moment, no one moved.
Then Alicia gasped under her breath. ‘Hazim?’
Suddenly aware he was unmasked, the terrorist cast his eyes to the ground as if deeply ashamed.
‘You know him?’ Connor whispered in astonishment.
Alicia stared incredulous at the young man before them. ‘He’s one of Kalila’s brothers.’
Connor now vaguely recalled him collecting Kalila from school on a few occasions. No wonder Secret Service hadn’t picked up on any terrorist surveillance at Montarose School – Hazim would have already been security checked. Connor reckoned Hazim must have been responsible for planting the Cell-Finity bug too, when he gave Kalila her new phone and she forwarded the number to Alicia, himself and all her friends. Yet at that precise moment Connor didn’t care who the terrorist was. His priority was to escape with Alicia.
‘Hazim! What’s taking you so long?’ barked a voice from the far room.
A conflicted look passed across Hazim’s face as he glanced from Alicia to the room and back again. He didn’t reply and the man in the room became impatient.
‘Bahir, go give him a kick up the backside!’
A man with round steel-rimmed glasses appeared out of a doorway. His eyes widened in shock at seeing their two captives free.
‘Hazim, don’t just stand there!’ he cried, dashing into the corridor. ‘Grab them!’
When Hazim didn’t react, Connor seized upon the young man’s hesitation. He snatched up the coffee pot and threw the scalding contents into the face of the approaching bespectacled man. The terrorist fell back, screaming, his skin blistering. Connor then one-inch-pushed Hazim in the chest. Hazim flew backwards, sprawling on to the kitchen floor. Connor grabbed Alicia’s arm and made for the front door.
But they hadn’t gone two steps, when a bearded man with a hooked nose leapt like a tiger into their path.
‘Not so fast!’ he growled, unsheathing the jewelled dagger from his belt.
Confronted by the formidable blade, Connor recalled his instructor’s words: It’s far better to make a good run than a bad stand. But, with nowhere to run this time, a bad stand was the only option Connor had.
He took the terrorist leader head on, crescent-kicking the hand that held the dagger. But the leader was deceptively quick. Pulling back, he slashed with the blade. Connor leapt aside, barely avoiding his stomach being sliced open. As the dagger came in for another attack, Connor truly wished he’d worn his stab-proof T-shirt. Pushing Alicia out of range of the knife, Connor made a lunge forward, seized the man’s wrist and twisted it into a jujitsu lock. The leader grimaced in pain, his bones grating, but he refused to let go. The two of them began wrestling for dominance of the knife. They slammed against the wall. The tip of the blade dug into Connor’s shoulder. He cried out, losing control of the terrorist’s wrist. The leader pinned him by the throat to the wall.
‘Who the hell are you?’ snarled the terrorist leader, as Connor choked in his vice-like grip.
Struggling to free himself, Connor spluttered, ‘Alicia’s … buddy.’
The leader shook his head. ‘No, you’re trouble,’ he replied, raising his dagger and aiming the sharpened tip at Connor’s heart. ‘Too much trouble to keep alive.’
For all Connor’s protection of Alicia, it was now she who came to his rescue. As the dagger arced down, Alicia launched herself at the terrorist leader.
‘Leave him alone!’ she cried, landing on his back.
Clinging on for all she was worth, she clawed at his face with her long fingernails, gouging at both his eyes. The leader roared in fury and pain. Releasing Connor, he snatched at the wildcat on his back. He grabbed hold of an arm and flung her off. Alicia flew through the air, struck the opposite wall and landed in a dazed heap, blood trickling from a gash on her forehead.
Seized by a bloodlust, the leader turned on her. Deep red score-marks lined his face and one eye was a bloody pulp.
‘You’ll pay for that,’ he yelled, brandishing his dagger. ‘I’ll cut your face to pieces!’
‘NO! UNCLE MALIK, DON’T!’ protested Hazim as he ran from the kitchen and stepped between them. ‘She’s just a girl.’
‘She’s an infidel,’ spat the terrorist leader, glaring at his nephew through his one good eye. ‘Now out of my way or I’ll go through you to her.’
Connor could see Hazim was trembling with fear, but he held his ground.
Malik appeared to back down. Then with the speed of a striking cobra he drove the dagger into Hazim’s gut. Hazim gasped in shock, his eyes bulging, his whole body shuddering.