"Good, special agent Johnson, come in." A rumbling male voice greeted through the wooden door. A slender caramel colored blonde tugged on the edges of her black suit coat and entered shyly through the door.
"Good morning sir." She greeted in a sonorous tone, keeping her voice mild and unassuming despite her unease.
"You're probably wondering why I summoned you here so early and on such short notice. I won't dally because I can see you are ill at ease." The department head smiled at her and motioned for her to take a seat across from him. He slid a cream colored folder across the paper work of his desk and over to her. She sat primly in the chair and with a small degree of hesitation let her hand take up the file folder.
"As you can see, this is special agent Scott and civilian covert operations leader Kelly Robinson. What you're about to hear is one of the most coveted and classified missions known to this branch of the government. Can I count on you Julianne?" The elderly director looked down at her over the bridge of his glasses. She fought the urge to swallow and nodded once.
"Excellent. These two agents are probably the best we have in the field. They've thrown more missions wide open than any other team I've known. They are peers to Carlos." The man paused in reverence to the retired agent and continued.
"However, we received word today these two men were taken hostage by a hostile group in the south jungles of Costa Rica." The wrinkles in the man's forehead deepened and Julianne looked up from the file with a frown.
"They were compromised?" She questioned gently. The director shook his head.
"Not that we're aware of. We believe they were taken captive by a band of rebels unaware of their true identities or of their mission. Naturally, if these people were to find out, the results would be disastrous." His voice dropped a degree lower.
"We have reason to believe they have discovered a ring of El Sid terrorists in Costa Rica and have gathered enough intelligence not only to thwart a future attack, but also to indict them. They could lead us to the prize." Director Steven's voice teemed with the promise of potential, and Julianne understood his excitement. The discovery and arrest of the group's elusive leader would prevent the loss of millions of American lives globally.
"Posing as an American Red Cross assistant, you are to infiltrate the barricade and retrieve our two missing agents. If this is not possible, or you believe them to be compromised, you are to retrieve the information then make your way to the rendezvous. I want as little collateral damage as possible. Do I make myself clear?" He asked her firmly, and Julianne bobbed her head in agreement, though she secretly did not wholly comply. The agency policy was to abandon compromised agents to their own devices, but leaving innocent men to die at the hands terrorists was not an ideal she adopted.
"Good luck, we're counting on you to bring them home. Make us proud." He ordered her briskly, and Julianne flipped her file folder closed with an official snap.

Chapter Two

It had happened quickly, the rush of feet, the barked orders in foreign tongues, the shrill screams of terrified women and children. Men in thick black leather boots surrounded the hotel ball room and smiled menacingly at the formally attired group in the center of the room, huddling in a mass underneath a glittering chandelier.
"Kelly, are these guys invited?" A voice drawled underneath his breath.
"Man, how am I supposed to plan this when I don't even know what the hell they're saying? You're the one that suggested Kelly Robinson throw a birthday bash for the Prime Minister and his little friends. For all I know they're your friends, Alex. I kind of see a resemblance." Kelly snapped back in a harsh whisper. One of the booted soldiers stepped forward and let off a round from an automatic riffle into the ceiling. Plaster cascaded down over the prisoners like a water fall, a devastating silence fell over the room. An official looking man with a military stance strode forward proudly and circled around the group like a predator, his cruel dark eyes glittering at them and darting back and forth between them with great suspicion.
"Every one is to put their hands behind their heads to be searched for weapons. Any sudden movements would be catastrophic." The man barked, his voice reverberating inside the walls of the hotel ball room.
No one made a move. The soldier's fingers drifted nervously toward the triggers of their riffles and Alex made a small sound with his throat.
"He wants us to put our hands on our heads to be searched." Alex explained to the group sotto voce out of the corner of his mouth. Slowly, a few of the men brought their hands to their heads and laced their fingers. The soldiers weaved their way through the crowd and began their searches, pocketing anything of value. They made their way around the room, unrelenting in their quest for weapons.
"Hey, take it easy with that. It's my grandmother's. She'll be upset when she sees your hands on it. She'll knock you out, I ain't lying." Kelly told the soldier who removed his watch from his wrist.
"I know you. You're Kelly Robinson. You're the boxer who gave up a promising career to do gardening and take care of his invalid grandmother. Was that true?" The leader of the group asked in a silky Spanish, floating over the hush of the crowd. Alex translated, adding a few words of his known not said by the man to the insult.
Kelly gave Alex a look of loathing before answering.
"Yes, that is true. I'm a changed man." Kelly replied none too easily. Convincing Kelly to give up his boxing career and continue work as a secret agent had been Alex Scott's idea of a joke. He hadn't believed Kelly would consider the proposition until he showed up at the B.N.S. agency one week later ready to work. As part of a bargain, Alex came up with the reasons for Kelly's sudden retirement from the boxing world after his sweep of the fight series, leaving him sixty and zero. Whenever he was asked the reasons for his retirement, he never failed to shoot Alex a hateful glance, even when Alex was not present.
"I somehow doubt your reasoning. But then again, I never believe what's written in the papers." The man brought his attention back to the group as a whole.
"Ladies and Gentleman, you are hostages. We want our demands met by our government. If they are not met, we will be forced to kill you. If you try to escape, we will kill you. If you do manage to escape, and that will not be likely, we will start killing the other hostages one by one, until you return, or until they are all dead. You have a responsibility to each other. Do not test our will." He warned them in Spanish. Alex translated slowly, softening some of the words to keep the prisoners calm. The man made a sharp movement with his fist and the room flinched. The soldiers at the wall momentarily lowered their weapons and stood at ease. The group gave a collective sigh of relief.
"He wants us all to sit on the floor and to be comfortable." Alex told them all, leading the example and taking a seat.
"I'll be more comfortable when we're not surrounded by guns. I knew I should have brought the phone tonight. We could have easily called BNS." Alex lamented under his breath.
"Are you stupid or something? Did you eat surf board wax as a kid? Turn on that homing device in your shoe. That will send B.N something our way." Kelly muttered under his breath and Alex arched his eye brows in surprise.
"You're a genius." Alex murmured, taping the arch of his shoe non challantly.
"No I'm semi psychic. Let's work on a plan to get out of here. My suit's starting to wrinkle."

Chapter Three

Alex blinked repeatedly as he stared up to the cheaply spackled hotel ceiling. Ten hours had passed. Many of the captives were asleep, or pretending to while keeping a weary watch on the men carrying imposing weapons. He let out a long and sustained puff of air, resisting momentarily the urge to look as his watch again. From behind him, he could hear the restful pattern of Kelly's sleeping. Wanting to keep his senses alert, he took stock of the room again, hoping to find an unseen escape hole or a weakness in their armored defenses. He eyed the door longingly, causing a few of the more watchful soldiers to tighten their fingers around the triggers of their riffles. Seeing their sharp actions, he relaxed his head and turned to his side, hoping to appear as though he were sleeping. He looked at his watch again and released another sigh.
A sharp rap came at the wooden door of the ballroom and the men were quick to action, swarming around it, their weapons raised at the ready. One of the men waved his hand, and the door was swung violently open. Alex lifted his head from his side in time to see an anxious youth delivering a message. His trepidation grew when one of the soldiers pointed at him. With a gulp, he dropped his head down again, hoping they would ignore him.
"Kelly." He murmured anxiously. The man didn't stir.
"Kelly! Help, they're coming for me." He whispered again. Kelly crooned something imperceptible in his sleep, then rolled over to the other side. Alex gave a groan of frustration as one of the booted men brought his foot in contact harshly with his ribs and barked orders with his fist for Alex to stand and walk. Nodding, Alex stood stiffly and followed the man's directions, his senses keenly aware of the gun muzzle jabbing into his back.
He was led out of the ballroom and through the hallway to the hotel lobby, which now vaguely resembled a war zone. The men formed a circle around an unsuspecting victim and shouting orders. The hostility in the room exploded as the person inside the circle made some sort of motion.
Seeing Alex arrive, the leader put up his fist and a silence like death's pallor hung over the room like a net.
"This person doesn't speak our language, but appears to be from the Red Cross. We wish to know her purposes for her intrusion." The commander mandated. Alex nodded and stepped forward through the opening the crowd had made. A young woman was caught by her arms and held at knifepoint by a blurrily soldier twice her size, grunting violently as he twisted the knife closer to her throat.
"My name is Alex Scott. I'm here to help translate what I can." He stated his hands out in a gesture of peace, trying to diffuse the volatile situation. The woman's chestnut hair swam in her face and she made an effort to blow it away with her mouth as the man released her neck and she rested her hands against her knees to regain her breathing pattern.
"Next time you should send someone who knows the language." Alex stated a trifle crossly. The woman looked up at him and her posture straightened in rebellion to his statement.
"Charmed." She retorted, making an effort to contain her sarcasm. Immediately, Alex regretted his words and hid his shock at such a young woman being sent to deal with such gruesome acts.
"My name is Julianne Johnson. I'm from the Red Cross. I'm here to provide humanitarian aide and supplies for the captives." She explained to him, trying not to smile at her good fortune of having the BNS agent easily accessible. He nodded and began to translate this sentence into Spanish. Immediately, the guard around them diminished.
"If you would be so kind as to ask them what provisions their men might need?" She asked him, brushing the dirt off her grey suit and adjusting the Red Cross armband on her jacket sleeve. "And if you would be so kind as to tell me how many of them understand English?" She added to him quietly. Alex looked surprised.
"Not many I would think. But then again, we weren't all introduced in a social situation." He explained, finishing the remainder of his sentence to the guard, watching them buzz among themselves before surrounding their leader and engaging in debate. Julianne watched cautiously.
"How many of them speak Hungarian?" She murmured. Alex allowed his face to express some surprise.
"That's a rather unusual question. I haven't met too many Red Cross Aide workers in South America who can speak Hungarian." He said with a hopeful expression written on his face. Julianne nodded to him slowly.
"And I haven't met many hostages who carry homing devices in their shoes. You're a hard man to find Mr. Scott." She told him in Hungarian thick enough to cut with a knife. It was never her best language. Alex winced at her pronunciation.
"You're close you know. The t is a little further back in the roof of the mouth. But other than that you've got it." He told her a little more loudly, realizing they were starting to attract unwanted attention. Julianne's expression grew more intense.
"How many are alive still?" She asked him in a tense voice.
"We're all still alive. I don't know how long that will last though. It would be best never to find out." He told her cautiously and she nodded in agreement.
"I'm working on that. We're trying to accommodate their demands, but some of the things they ask for are nearly impossible. The government flatly refuses to negotiate with terrorists." She explained as gently as possible.
"Your job is to keep yourselves and the hostages alive. I'll be back every day until there is a solution." She managed the last sentence in a cool, collected voice as a few of the soldiers re-approached them with purposeful strides. One of the men grabbed her arm roughly, and Alex edged forward nervously until Julianne put her arm up to prevent his involvement. The man dug through her blazer jacket and pulled out note pad and pencil. Julianne breathed a visible sigh of relief. She and Alex shared a private moment of mirth before growing more serious.
"How does the Red Cross have jurisdiction in cases like this?" Alex asked her quietly, keeping a wary eye on one soldier staying in the shadows of the hotel lobby.
"Well, they don't want a complete disaster on their hands. Often times when these groups plan hostile take-over, they don't think to bring provisions for their guests. And with the government's stubborn policy regarding terrorism, they like to avoid casualties when they can." Her keen green eyes scanned the hotel lobby, assessing threats and escape routes before turning her attention back to Alex.
"I need you to explore and find out ways to get these people out of here. I need to know the routines of the guards, how many there are, their loyalty to the cause." She broke off suddenly.
"I understand you need shampoo, but that will have to wait until the second day." She covered smoothly with a small hint of an understanding smile. Alex did his best to affect a look he hoped would mimic disappointment. One of the guards returned with a crude list written in Spanish. Alex looked it over and handed it to Julianne. Quietly, he explained to her the items on the list, adding a few things of his own.
"The eyes and ears, can you get that for me?" He whispered to her. She exchanged a grave look with him and nodded.
"I'll do my best, but that will take some arranging. Is there anything else?" She questioned as he finished the last of the list.
"And Vaseline." He added as an after thought. Julianne frowned.
"This isn't another visitation with the jelly birds is it?" She asked him suspiciously and Alex chuckled loudly.
"You heard about that?" He asked incredulously, and Julianne nodded vigorously.
"We all laughed about it for a week." She confided. Her smile dropped abruptly as the soldiers edged their way forward and took her by the arms to escort her out the glass doors. They accosted her roughly by the arm and she exchanged one more encouraging look to Alex before they led her away. Two men pressed their gun barrels to his back and he turned reluctantly at their commands.
With a final look at the bright sunshine and Julianne, both who drifted in like a breeze of good cheer, he set his jaw more firmly and began to observe on his return to the crowded ball room.