Um. I am (again) very sorry for the epic delay in this chapter. Very very sorry, I am terrible. Thank you all so much for all the lovely support so far, I really really appreciate it and one day this story will definitely be finished. If anyone is still reading this, I hope you enjoy chapter five :D

Chapter Five

Ten hours in

"This is Puerto Verde." National Security Advisor Ellen Hill pushed the map closer to Henry, pointing at the little space at the edge of a rainforest that was the place Elizabeth was being held. "It used to be a logging town back in the day, but then the laws were tightened up and the local company went bust and the town died."

"Only now it's back from the dead," interjected Russell Jackson as he sat staring at his phone at the other end of the table in the Chief of Staff's office.

Henry stared hard at the map as though if he looked closely enough, he would be able to see his wife. The last two hours had been some of the most surreal of his life, but running through everything he had found out, everything he had been told, was the crushing fear that Elizabeth was in trouble. He stared at the map because it helped him to rationalise the situation. He stared at the map because otherwise he'd be staring at the picture of Elizabeth's face that had been sent through as proof of life, and then he wouldn't be able to concentrate at all.

He couldn't help her if he was sobbing over a photo.

"So she's been held somewhere there?" Henry asked Ellen Hill, gesturing to the map.

"Yes. We should have more detailed satellite photos within the hour."

"We've got planes in the sky?"

"I can't give you more specific details, Dr McCord."

Henry had to stop himself from slamming his fist down on the table in frustration. For the past two hours, they'd been telling him things but not telling him things. Giving him information but only taking it so far, and it was driving him crazy. His anger wasn't really directed at Ellen Hill – he knew that there was something Russell and Conrad weren't saying, and it involved Elizabeth, and he wanted to know.

He thought about what they had told him so far about what had happened, trying to pinpoint the thing that had sparked his instincts that they were holding back something important. They had said that Elizabeth's motorcade was ambushed, and half of her team were killed in the assault before she was snatched away in a vehicle. Then there were several hours unaccounted for, before somewhere just after the start of hour six, a video had been sent to the CIA from a guy called General Carlos Rumero Munoz, informing them that he had the Secretary of State held hostage in Puerto Verde, and in order to secure her release, would Conrad Dalton please release from jail some of his friends that were currently incarcerated in the United States? He had also let it be known that further demands would soon be made, and he had followed up the video with a photo of Elizabeth to prove that he had her.

Casting the map aside, Henry looked again at the photograph that had been printed out and given to him by Nadine before she went off with Conrad to place an urgent phone call to the US embassy in Guyana, where Puerto Verde was located. Henry thought that Elizabeth looked defiant in the picture, which was good, but her eyes were slightly unfocused and there was a tension at her jaw that suggested she was only just holding it together, which was bad. The fact it was only a head and shoulders shot didn't give much away, but she seemed at least to be unharmed as far as Henry could tell.

Wait.

He had just thought what it was that had triggered something in him. This guy…

They had still been in the Oval Office at that point, Conrad and Russell and Nadine and Henry. Nadine had just finished recounting the sequence of events so far and had played the video for Henry, and while Henry had sat watching the screen with mounting horror, Conrad Dalton had been pacing in front of the desk.

"He's proposing a trade?" Henry had said when he had collected himself together enough to speak again.

The President had scoffed and said, "This guy –" Then he had abruptly stopped and caught himself before saying, in a calmer tone, "We're trying to establish a connection with him as we speak, Henry. He suggests that there are more demands to be made so we're doing what we can to find out what those are as soon as possible. I promise you that we're doing everything we can to help Elizabeth."

Then Nadine had passed him the photo and Henry's attention had been entirely focused on his wife's heat-flushed, slightly frightened face and he hadn't thought about anything else for a while.

This guy. The way that the President had said it… "Russell?" Henry said, forcing the Chief of Staff to look up from his phone. "Tell me how Dalton knows General Rumero Munoz."

Five hours in

"Good afternoon, Madam Secretary." General Rumero Munoz sat forward in his chair as Elizabeth blinked up at him, a smile splitting his jowly face that could very well have been genuine.

Who the hell was she kidding? Of course his smile was genuine. Look at the ace he held. Elizabeth ignored him and instead focused her attention on sitting up without jarring her foggy head too much, and without showing her discomfort on her face. She wasn't about to let the bastard know she was struggling. She managed to push herself up and then swung her legs over the edge of the bed, gripping hard onto the thin mattress to steady herself when her vision swam wildly from the movement, and biting her lip to keep in a groan.

She noticed that he hadn't bothered to restrain her, and that was interesting, although she was pretty sure they'd tied her up in the car that brought her here. She remembered waking briefly to find her shoulders pulling uncomfortably, and she could still feel a slight sting at her wrists like the delicate skin had been bitten into by rope or cable ties. Elizabeth glanced down.

The lower right sleeve of her blouse was saturated from cuff to elbow with drying blood. She couldn't keep in the gasp of shock.

"The blood is not yours," the man said.

Planting her feet squarely on the floor, trying to look as full of intent as she could when she still couldn't gather herself enough to stand, Elizabeth fixed him with a glare. "I know that," she snapped. "It's from one of my DS agents, who's dead because of you."

He tilted his head. "How are you feeling now?"

"What are you doing? What is this?" She wasn't about to get into a discussion about her feelings, at least not until she felt collected enough to unleash a tirade that would let the bastard know exactly how she felt about the situation and what he had done. But she still didn't have enough information about what was going on, and she could still feel the drugs in her system weighing her down, and she wasn't about to let him see her cry.

He leaned back in his chair, pushing off again from the ground to rock the chair backwards, the front legs leaving the ground. The metal groaned under his weight. "I'm declaring independence, Madam Secretary."

"What?"

The chair dropped back into position and the General leaned forward once again. Elizabeth forced herself to stay stock still even as he leaned close enough to be able to reach out and touch her if he wanted to. "I assume from your lack of questions on the subject that you recognise me," he went on.

She slowly sucked in a breath and held it for a minute. She thought about how to respond. There was no point denying that she recognised the General from an operation she had worked on while she was employed by the CIA, especially not when she had spent so long tracking him and not when she had met the man once before. The question she wanted answering was whether what he was currently doing had anything to do with back then, or if he was engaged in a new venture that just so happened to require him to abduct her. Knowing his background as she did, Elizabeth guessed the odds were about even. "I do," she replied, releasing the held breath on a rush of air. "And you very obviously know me."

The General gave her a smile that could almost be called friendly. "In all your guises," he said. Then he spread his arms wide open. "Welcome to Puerto Verde."