Holiday In Cambodia

"I need a piss."

Amber turned her head slowly, regarding Rick with tired eyes. It had been a while since any of them had spoken, and she hadn't expected their silence to be broken with such bluntness.

"I'm jealous you actually have any fluid inside of you at all," she muttered.
"I'm serious," he whined, "I really need to pee."
"Just go, Rick... " Jack sighed.
"I can't just go... not in front of everyone!"
"We won't look, man," Mike assured him, a hint of amusement crossing his lips for the first time that day.

Rick sighed, shifting uncomfortably, before flicking his eyes around the now-familiar surroundings of the clearing.
"But... the ground slopes right here and... I think it might end up running right down onto Billie Joe... "
Jack smirked, leaning back against the tree behind him.
"To be honest, mate... I think we could all do with that kind of comic relief right now."

Mike smiled, about to voice his agreement before being distracted by the sound of voices in the jungle. He felt his heart jump in fear, as they all turned their heads in the direction of the noise, and their watchman leapt to his feet, apparently ready to greet his friends on their return.

He felt his fear heighten when the three men burst through the trees. He'd always found them terrifying, but the anger on their faces disturbed him more than ever, and he felt his body tense when they turned on the man they had left behind on guard, backing him against a tree as they unleashed their fury.

The smaller man looked as confused as he did, making him wonder if the language they spoke made any sense at all. The men continued to scream at each other in anger and frustration, and Mike jumped when one of them furiously kicked at the trunk of the palm tree in front of them, sending shards of bark flying in his direction.

Maggie shrank backwards, trying to shuffle as far from the men as possible, her heart beating wildly.
"What do you think is going on?" Mia whispered, leaning close to her, her eyes wide with alarm.
"I don't know," Maggie replied, shakily, "But they're mad... and that isn't good for us."

"Shh... "
Maggie turned her head at the sound of Billie Joe's voice, meeting his stricken green eyes with her own.
"Keep quiet," he whispered.
She nodded, attempting to swallow her fear as he slid one of his hands into Maggie's and one into Tre's as they huddled together on the dusty ground.

The men continued to snipe at each other, turning to regard their captives closely, before scowling and crossing over to the other side of the clearing, where one of them stopped in front of Jack. No one was sure where they had gotten the idea that he was their leader, but it was probably the same unidentifiable quality that had made he and Amber the closest thing to leaders that they'd had since they arrived on the island in the first place.

Jack winced, feeling the cold barrel of the gun press against the bare skin of his chest. He glanced up into the face of his attacker, his heart racing at the anger in his dark eyes, the sadistic grimace on his lips. He noticed, for the first time, the deep scar that ran from his forehead down his cheek, creating a channel for the sweat that flowed from his black hair and making him worry that this was a guy that was no stranger to conflict. He grimaced at the feel of hot breath on his face, as he listened to the angry and indecipherable accusations that were being thrown his way.

"I don't understand you!" he shouted, in frustration, "Just let us go!"

He groaned as the gun pressed harder against his chest, and another tirade of furious Khmer was spat into his face.

"Our friend needs a doctor!" he yelled back, hopelessly, "You have to let us go!"

He didn't even know why he was bothering to appeal to them. It was obvious that they couldn't understand him any more than he could understand them. As the gun was withdrawn and the men stood up to cross the clearing again, Jack covered his face and dissolved into tears.

Lara didn't remember much of the boat ride. By rights, she should have been alert, on edge, shell-shocked by their experience with their farmers as they left the island, but they hadn't gotten far before her body had given in to its weakness and she had collapsed against Jason, her eyes finally sliding shut in exhaustion.

When she opened them again, Jason's hands were cupping her face, gently coaxing her awake before the sounds of voices jolted her from her drowsiness and she looked around her.

The stretch of beach they were nearing was long, edged with beach huts and dotted with people, and she felt a sudden surge of adrenalin and nervous excitement at the realization that they had made it.

Jason peered over the side of the boat, waiting until the water looked shallow enough to wade through before sliding into it, taking both of Lara's hands as he helped her to do the same. They left the boat rocking amongst the gentle waves, satisfied that it had served its purpose.

Lara bit her lip, gripping onto Jason's shirt, which was becoming soaked with water as the pulled her towards the shore.

"Jase... I... what are we gonna do?"
He turned around, his eyes hard and determined.
"I don't know, we just... we need someone. We need help."

Lara nodded, her heart pounding as she looked back over her shoulder at the ocean, feeling a flicker of nerves when she realised that the islands they had left behind were obscured by mist. She suddenly regretted leaving them, knowing that if anything happened to them while they were gone, she would never forgive herself.

She grasped Jason's hand tightly, overwhelmed completely by the unfamiliar buzz of civilisation, excitement and nerves stirring in her stomach as they trudged up the sand towards the wooden huts that lined the sea front and hurried into the first one they came to.

It was a small bar, empty inside save for a sleepy cat spread out in front of the beer pumps, and the gentle sound of music drifting through from the back. They only appeared to have a couple of customers, who sat at the plastic, umbrella-topped tables outside, taking in the sunshine and briefly looking up from their drinks to glance curiously at the pair of distressed Westerners, before they shrugged it off and went back to their lazy conversation.

Jason's heart was racing as he approached the bar, his hands pressing flat against the wooden surface as he leaned over and called out. The cat sat up, flattening its ears against its head, before jumping to the floor and skipping outside into the sunshine, just as its owner emerged from the kitchen.

He dried his hands on a checkered towel, an eyebrow raised at the dishevelled appearance of his new customers, who spoke before he had the chance.

"We need help!" Jason spluttered, "English? You speak English?"

The man hung up the towel and came closer.
"English?... A little... " he said, curiously, "You... okay?"
"Water," Lara said, desperately, "We need water."

The man nodded, his eyes showing concern as he filled two glasses and pushed them forwards, which they drained in seconds. His eyes widened a little, before he began to fill them again.

"We've been stuck on an island," Jason explained, breathlessly, "For over a week. Our friends are... "

He stopped, noticing the barman's confused expression, and turned to Lara.
"We're in Vietnam, right? You speak Vietnamese?"
Lara scowled.
"Of course I don't speak fucking Vietnamese. Why would I?"
"I thought you were Vietnamese."
"I'm fucking Canadian!"
"Okay... okay... " Jason sighed, in frustration, turning back to the barman.

"What is wrong?" the barman asked him, "Say... slow."
"We need help. You know where the American Embassy is?"
"American... "
"Embassy. Right? Is there one?"
"Uh... American Embassy?" he repeated, slowly, his brow furrowing, "No... I don't... know."
"Canadian?" Lara pressed, desperately, "British? Australian?"

At that moment, a woman came out of the kitchen, her attention attracted by the frantic conversation taking place at the bar. She glanced between Lara and Jason, before addressing them in confident English.

"What is the problem?"
"Oh, thank fuck... " Jason muttered, "Look, we need help, quickly. We need to find the American Embassy, because-"
"There is no embassy here," the woman told him, quickly, "That's in Hanoi, it's miles away. There is a British government building of some kind in Kampot... "
"How far is that?"
"About ten mile. I can take you... you look like you need help."
"We do," said Lara, her voice cracking with relief, "We got stuck on this island... without any food... "
"Which island?"
"I don't know... It was quite small... and there was no one else there. We ate from a rice plantation. That was the only thing on the island... "
"Most of the islands around here are used for growing rice and other crops," the woman nodded.
"But then the owners of the plantation turned up and... they had guns and they, they're mad that we were on their land and now they're holding our friends captive. We took their boat to get help but we need to get back to them. They're going to hurt them."
"We need to get them home," Jason added, "One of them is real sick and we don't have any money, or passports, or nothing, and we... fuck, we need to get the cops out there right away, we-"
"Farmers around here take the law into their own hands. The police in Ha Tien stay out of it."
"But they'll kill them!"
"Come on, quickly, we need to go to get help. My car is outside."
"Oh, God, thank you," Lara breathed.
"It's fine, we can't waste time. Those farmers... they do not like uninvited guests."
"We figured that," Jason muttered, taking Lara's hand as they followed their helper out of the bar.

They crossed the street, to where a beat up Jeep was parked, appallingly, half way onto the sidewalk. Neither of them had time to feel worried.
"My name is Moonyan," said their saviour, as Jason and Lara scrambled into the back seat.
"I'm Lara," Lara gabbled, "And this is Jason."
Moonyan nodded.
"Do not worry, Lara," she said, "Someone will help your friends."

Moonyan's parking was completely indicative of the care she put into driving, but neither of them were concerned. Jason could feel his heart pounding in his chest as they headed out of Ha Tien, and it struck him, suddenly, that he was putting all of his trust in this complete stranger, who was driving in the opposite direction to his stranded friends. He wiped at the sweat on his brow, as he felt Lara's grip on his hand tighten. Apparently , she was as worried as he was.

Looking out of the window, it was difficult to adjust to the sight of civilisation, but it was more than welcome. As they passed a sign indicating Kampot's city limits, Jason sat up, leaning forward so that Moonyan could hear him over the noise of the unhealthy-sounding engine.

"Is it far now? Kampot, right?"
Moonyan nodded, glancing at him.
"Do not worry, Jason. It is not far. Just a couple more minutes, okay?"
Jason nodded, nervously, falling sideways into Lara as the car took a corner without warning.
"Sorry," Moonyan apologised, "I only learned to drive a week ago."
Lara raised an eyebrow.
"A week? And you got your license?"
Moonyan shrugged.
"I can drive. I don't need a license."

Jason exchanged a glance with Lara, right before someone pulled out in front of them, and Moonyan made the kind of emergency stop that makes you wonder if you would have been better off crashing.

They were both relieved when she pulled up outside a large stone building, and they scrambled out of the car and onto the sidewalk, into the bright sunshine and the haze of city life.

Jason looked up, feeling his heartbeat quicken at the sight of the Union Jack flying outside of the building and hoping with every fibre of his being that this place would be able to help them.

British Consulate General.

"Thank you," he said, hurriedly, to Moonyan.
"It's okay," she replied, "I will come with you. Just in case."
"Thanks," smiled Lara, gratefully, as they started up the steps and towards the heavy double doors leading into the building.

They stepped into a huge air-conditioned lobby, and Jason scanned it, frantically, before hurrying over to the front desk, only really noticing that he still had bare feet when he felt the coolness of the marble floor beneath them.

The man behind the front desk was young, dressed in some kind of official clothing and poring over the documents in front of him, which he looked up from as the three entered.

"Can I help you?" he asked, and Jason just about cried at the sound of his accent.
"Yes," Jason gabbled, "Please, I... We... Our friends need help. They're stuck on an island off Ha Tien, we need to... they're being held by farmers, they have guns and-"
The man held up his hands.
"Slow down. Where are they?"
"I don't know," Jason practically begged, "An island. I'll be able to find it again. We took the farmers' boat to get help. We've been there all week with no food or water and... we just lived off the plantation and now the farmers have showed up and... "
"Jesus. How many of you?"
"Ten. Eight still there. Two of them British. I didn't know where else to... "
"You did the right thing. How did you get there?"
"We... we don't remember, but we... we were in Phnom Penh. We had some crazy drinks... we were only supposed to be in Cambodia twenty-four hours... it was an emergency stop, we were going to Hong Kong, I'm with Green Day and-"
"Hold up. Green Day?"
"I- Yeah... "
"The band?"
"Yeah, my name's Jason, I'm their guitarist, and-"
"Jason... White?"
"That's right," Jason replied, with a nod.
"And they're stuck on this island?"
"Yeah, and one of the guys is really sick, we need to get them off, we... "
"Christ alive. I can't believe this. When you guys went missing, the media went crazy, I've been seeing you guys on the news for the past week or something. You wouldn't believe how many police they've had combing Phnom Penh and the surrounding area... It was only yesterday that they called off the search, and now you walk in here... . Right... "

Jason watched, nervously, running a hand through his hair as the guy picked up the phone. Called off the search? That meant they thought they were dead...

He bit his lip, tears stinging his eyes at the thought of their friends and family back home getting such news, and Lara noticed, stepping closer to him and squeezing his hand.

"Officer Black?... Sir, this is Duty Officer Parks at the Consulate in Kampot... Yes, Sir... Listen, I've got some Americans in here reporting an incident... sounds like a hostage situation, I need to get some men off Ha Tien, immediately."

He turned away from the phone for a moment, his attention back to Jason.
"These farmers, what were they armed with?"
"Uh... I... I don't know, some kind of automatic rifles?"
"All of them armed?"
"... Yeah," Jason nodded, his voice cracking, "And there are four of them."
"Four. Okay, Sir."
Jason watched as he relayed this information back down the phone, before turning back to him.
"Don't worry, Sir," he said, "We're getting out there, right away."

Back on the island, the atmosphere was tense. Since their argument, none of the guards had spoken a word to one another, nor had they left the clearing. Billie Joe watched them closely, noticing the anxious glances that passed between them, the way their guns remained raised, their bodies tense and their eyes furiously scanning their surroundings. Something wasn't right, and he didn't like it.

He felt Tre's grip on his hand start to loosen, and gently tugged it. Tre let out a small groan, which attracted the attention of one of their guards. His head snapped in their direction, the gun raising slightly before he decided that the sound was no threat, and lowered it again. Billie Joe swallowed, turning to Maggie. She was staring at the floor, and he couldn't catch her eye. He knew that if he spoke to her, one of their captors would turn on him. He let out a shaky breath, feeling a new wave of desperation welling up inside of him as he closed his eyes again.

"You must have candles here somewhere."

"Why must I have candles?" he reasoned, rummaging blindly amongst the junk in the carton in front of him. "I live with a bunch of guys. Candles are... girly."

His hand closed around something squishy, and he recoiled. These boxes must have been in storage up here longer than he thought.

"Girly. Right," Adrienne replied, and he could almost hear her rolling her eyes. "This is the third fucking black out this week. What did you do the other times?"
"Sat in the dark and got really stoned."

Adrienne sighed, putting her hands on her hips and turning in the direction of his voice. She could just make out his eyes glinting in the small amount of moonlight that made it through the dusty attic windows.

"Sounds like it's the only plan we have," she smirked, stumbling over another box as she made her way towards him, "Billie, I can't believe how much junk you guys have stashed up here."
"Cool, huh? It might be worth something one day."
She grinned.
"I don't know how much people are going to pay for your boxes of mould."
"No way. It's useful junk. When I get rich from it, wait and see who's laughing."
"If you're getting rich from it, I'm sticking around," she joked, picking up the nearest carton and heading towards the loft hatch.

Billie Joe grinned, curling an arm around her waist and pulling her back.
"I'll go first," he said, kissing her cheek, "It's pitch fucking black. I think have to be gentlemanly about this."
"Knock yourself out... " she smiled, juggling the box in her hands as he made his way back down the ladder, and then passing it down to him before she descended herself.
"Why'd you bring the box of mould?"
"I was interested in what you guys consider sentimental value."

He smiled, taking her hand and leading her along the darkened hallway, tripping on Tre's casually discarded shoes as they went eliciting a curse from Billie Joe and a giggle from Adrienne. They finally fumbled their way to his bedroom, a journey which was dangerous enough to make him consider tidying it up a little, before collapsing onto the bed, where he began rummaging in the pocket of his jeans for the joint he had prepared earlier.

Adrienne grinned as he flicked his lighter into action, and she was able to make out his face again.
"See," he mumbled, around the joint in his mouth, as he held the flame to the end of it, "Who needs candles?"
She smiled, leaning back against the pillows as he passed it to her.
"You're right, as usual," she said, "Another problem solved through the use of marijuana."
"Exactly," he agreed, with a smirk, as he slid an arm around her shoulders, bringing her body closer against his.

He watched the way her hair fell into her eyes as she leaned against him, and the way her brown eyes glittered in the orange glow given off by the joint, and he felt a familiar flutter rush through him, making him wish that the summer wouldn't ever have to be over, and that she could just stay right here in California with him forever.

Giving his head a little shake, he leaned forward and grabbed the edge of the box Adrienne had dumped on the bed, dragging it toward them.
"Okay," he said, "Let's see what crap I have stashed away in here."

Adrienne smiled, passing his joint back to him as she peered into the box, pulling out a one-legged soldier and waving it at him.
"Hey, it's GI Joe," he grinned.
She giggled.
"What's he doing in here?"
"My mom made me clear out my room at home and there were some things I wouldn't let her throw out," he explained, "Let me know if you find his helmet."
"Bill... he has a leg missing. I think that's his main concern right now."

Billie Joe smiled, casting the figure aside and rummaging further into the box.
"Ah-ha!" he exclaimed, triumphantly, as he pulled out a candle.
"Hey... what was that about candles being girly?"
"I am girly," he replied, with a smirk, as he lit the candle and reached over to place it on the dresser, casting the room in pale, flickering light. "It's why you love me."
Adrienne smiled, looking back into the box.
"Is thatit?" she muttered, teasingly, "Hey, Christmas cracker... "
Billie Joe grinned as she held out the battered red and gold tube.
"Awesome! On Three."
"Okay... one... two... three!"

Billie Joe fell backwards against the pillows as the paper broke with a snap, and the contents landed in his lap.
"You cheat! You held onto the edge of the tube!"

"Did not!" he protested, grinning as he plopped a paper hat on top of her head of dreadlocks and unfolded the small piece of paper in his hands. "Okay, listen... "
"This is going to be terrible... "
"Just wait... I... oh God... it is terrible."
"Tell me anyway."
"I'm not sure I can."
"I bet I'll have heard you tell worse."
"Heh. Okay... what did the grape say when somebody stepped on him?"
Adrienne giggled, balancing Billie Joe's hat on top of his head.
"I don't know."
"... . Nothing. It just let out a little wine."

Adrienne giggled as Billie Joe balled up the joke and tossed it across the room, before wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning her head against his shoulder as they lay back against the pillows. Billie Joe smiled, taking in a shallow breath as he slid his fingers into her hair.
"I don't want to leave you," she stated, her voice a whisper.
He swallowed, pushing the remnants of the Christmas cracker to the side, until his hand closed around the small plastic gift and he held it up in front of his eyes to get a better look.
"What is it?" she mumbled, raising her head.
"A ring," he whispered, a small smile playing on his lips as he turned the pink plastic around between his fingers.
Well, that's a coincidence.
He felt his heartbeat begin to quicken as he struggled to make the decision of a lifetime in a matter of seconds, and then he glanced down at her, and his eyes met hers, and he realised she had made it for him.

Adrienne rested her head back against his chest, closing her eyes as she felt him take her hand in his own and opening them again in surprise when she felt him slide something onto her finger.
She smiled, opening her mouth to comment on the plastic ring, before she met his eyes, filled with a nervous sincerity that she hadn't seen before, and the words got lost somewhere in her throat.

Her heart began to race as he brought her fingers to his warm lips, hiding his uncertain smile.
"I love you," he whispered, "Marry me... and I'll make it a real one."

Billie Joe raised his aching head from his knees, not bothering to hide his tears as he felt Maggie's fingers interlace with his own. He looked up at her, meeting her frightened eyes for a moment, before there was a yell from across the clearing, and he looked up to see one of the farmers barrelling towards them. He gripped Maggie and Tre's hands harder as fear swept through him, but quickly let them go as the man furiously grabbed his arms, yelling at him in a tone that he suspected was enquiring about the whereabouts of the rope that had bound their hands.

He groaned as his hands were forced back behind his back, and one of the other men arrived with some rope to redo the work he had done on them before, but tighter this time. He cried out as the course fibres pressed against his raw skin, looking over at Maggie who was crying silently as the same thing was done to her.

Tre didn't seem to notice, and that much he was grateful for.

Lara shivered, staring down into the bowl of noodles she held in her hands. She knew that she should be starving, but she had given up on it after just a few mouthfuls. Jason slid his arm around her, leaning close as he rubbed her back.
"Are you cold?"
She shook her head, as the boat skipped on a wave, taking her stomach with it.
"Just... scared."
"I know," he said, softly, pulling her closer and pressing a kiss to her temple, "... So am I."

"Mr. White?"

Jason looked up, as one of the British officers approached him, hesitating slightly at the realisation he was interrupting the pair.
"Jason... "
"Jason... . Officer Black. We're about five miles out now. We're uncertain exactly which island we're heading for; we think it could be one of two. Can you tell us which direction you came in from?"

Jason nodded, standing up and looking around. The sea breeze whipped at his hair as his eyes landed on the island that had been their home for the past week, and he felt another rush of nerves as he pointed.
"That's the island."
"You're sure?"
"I'm positive."
"Okay. And you said that you came from round the back. Whereabouts on the island are your friends being held?"
"In the jungle at the back of the island," he replied, "If you want to keep your distance, you want to land on the beach you can see now... the one we were camping out on."
"Right. What we're going to do, we're going to wait until we're about a mile out, and then switch off the engine so that we don't alert their attention. We do not want them to panic."
"We... why... what do you think... "
"I don't know if these men are capable of using their weapons for the purpose they were designed for... but from what you've told us, it's a possibility. Panic pushes people into snap decisions, and we don't want them making any."

Jason nodded, rubbing a hand over his face and through his hair, before he sat back down next to Lara, nervously grinding his teeth. Lara swallowed, pulling on the sleeves of the sweater that Moonyan had given her back in Ha Tien, as she leaned against Jason, knowing that the noodles would have to be abandoned until she was feeling more settled, and knowing that would never happen until her friends were all safely in this boat.

Mike kept his eyes on the farmer that was nearest to him, watching the way his fingers tensed around the barrel of his gun, and his eyes flicked from one of his hostages to the next. He felt his heart jump a little at every movement the gun made, and he soon began to feel light-headed. He couldn't keep up this level of anxiety for much longer. He swallowed, his throat burning from the dehydration, glancing briefly at Tre, who seemed to have collapsed completely against Billie Joe's shoulder. For a moment, he wished that he was religious so that at least he'd have praying to fall back on.

He turned his head to look at Jack, but his eyes were fixed on the ground in front of them, the fight in them apparently lost completely. He knew he had given up now. Resting his forehead on his knees, Mike let out a long sigh, closing his eyes and wishing that sleep would come.

He could feel himself drifting back into his imagination, when a sound in the jungle made the farmers scramble to their feet, and he sighed, not bothering to raise his head. He listened to the frantic whispers that passed between the men as they stood on guard, only looking up when the rustling in the jungle became louder, his heart leaping into his throat when another voice joined the exchange.

He twisted around, his mouth dropping open at the sight of the new arrivals standing amongst the bushes. There must have been about six of them, although he didn't have time to count, and they all appeared to be Western despite the fluent local tongue that the foremost one was speaking in. He had only just noticed the Union Jack embroidered on his shirt sleeve when all of the guns were raised in the farmers direction, and he realised he was holding his breath.

He spun back around to face their captors, who looked suddenly stricken with fear, their rifles still at the ready, their eyes wide. After a few more orders were barked in their direction, with no response, the man with the Union Jack seemed to give up on his attempt at the local language.

"Lower your weapons, immediately."

Mike's heart began thumping harder than ever, and he barely noticed the collection of gasps that passed between his friends at the sound of the British accent, the confidence behind the simple command bringing them more comfort than they could have imagined.

As predicted, the change in language didn't make the farmers any keener to cooperate, and Mike watched breathlessly as they switched back to speaking in Khmer again.

"You have to help us!" came a voice, and Mike looked up to see Billie Joe appealing to them desperately, Tre still unconscious at his side, "Tre's really... he's... "

The smallest of the Cambodians angrily spun around to face Billie, and had only just started towards him when a shot was fired, and Mike slammed his eyes shut, his whole body jolting with shock and fear.

He opened them again to see a cloud of dust rising from the ground, and the Cambodians' attention focussed back on their British opposition, the gun of their spokesperson smoking. The relief from the realization that the bullet had gone into the ground shocked Mike into breathing again, but he sucked in a shallow gasp when the Cambodians began to lower their guns to the jungle floor.

It seemed to happen in slow motion, and he exchanged a shocked glance with Jack as the rifles touched the dusty ground, and the British men bore down on them immediately, tackling them to the floor amongst a furious exchange of incomprehensible commandments.

Maggie felt her heart lift at the sound of snapping handcuffs, and felt tears of relief make their way down her face when one of their rescuers hurried over to her, and began to untie her hands.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his eyes full of concern.
She nodded.
"Thank you... thank you... "
"It's alright, darling. You're all going to be alright."
"Tre... " she muttered, shuffling towards him when her hands were finally free.
"We're going to get him to a doctor," he told her, gently pulling her back by the shoulder as two of the men crouched next to Tre and began lifting his head from the ground.

Maggie nodded, wiping her eyes as she was shakily pulled to her feet, before she turned to Billie Joe and he pulled her into a hug.
"Told you we'd be okay," he muttered, tearfully as she pressed her cheek to his chest, "God bless the fucking UK."