The sunlight shone on the manuscript, making the words, printed in ink, glisten before him. His jade green eyes gazed and lingered, carefully studying every word before him. With his hand over his mouth, his fingers across his cheek and his body fixed like a still, stone statue deep in contemplation, his eyes lay rest on a single sentence at the end of a rather large paragraph. His eyes almost squinted at it, desperately trying to make it register in his mind, desperately trying to understand. Not a hair nor a muscle moved.

He was alone in his office. His computer was off, the fan in the corner was on, and the sun was still gleaming through the huge window behind him. The room was silent – except for the quiet hum of the fan in the corner – which was the perfect environment for Leo to think in. He sat, silent and still, and thought.

Leo was twenty-five, handsome, clever and Italian. He was half-Spanish too, thanks to his mother, so he could speak both languages fluently (although he reckoned he used Italian more often), and for the first time in his life, he couldn’t read his own language that was written in front of him. In front of him was a large, thin, white script, about three hundred pages long, for a romance movie. It was all written in Castilian (a type of Spanish), and being a married man who was deeply in love with his Castilian wife, most of the romantic language used Leo could understand and easily translate.

That was his job; in a huge skyscraper of a building, entirely made of glass and metal, in a small pretty town in England, he was given film scripts from all over the world, and he translated them – usually into Italian or Spanish – so the film could be dubbed into other languages to be sold and enjoyed by other people in many other countries. He loved his job; he was doing something he enjoyed and he was paid nearly five thousand pounds a year, what else could you want from a job?

But now he was frustrated, confused and thoroughly annoyed with himself. He was staring at this sentence, racking his brain for any knowledge that he had of the Castilian language. But the fact was there and still remained: he had no idea what it meant.

He’d looked through foreign dictionaries, he’d looked through previous Castilian scripts he’d translated to see if that phrase had been used before, he’d even looked online to see if the Internet could help him. But no. Nothing. He had never been in this dilemma before, he had never come across this phrase before and he had no idea what it meant. It was, in his eyes, gibberish.

He eventually sighed and ran his hands over his face, covering his eyes. He was very tempted to either slam his fists on the table or give up entirely, or perhaps do both at the same time. He looked across his desk through his fingers and caught sight of his mobile phone. ‘Call Alena’ he thought to himself, ‘she’s your last hope’. He reached across and gripped his phone in the middle of his olive-skinned palm. He flipped it open, ignoring the irritating noise it made every time he used it, dialled the same eleven numbers he always rang to talk to his beloved, and placed the phone by his right ear.

Alena, to Leo, was the most beautiful woman who had ever walked this earth. He’d read the stories about people like Helen of Sparta and he’d seen the pictures of the stunning models in the magazines, but they were all fairy tales to him. She was real, and best of all, she was his. While Leo was living in Spain some years ago, he met her in the university where they were both studying. He was studying languages, and she was studying history and law. They fell head over heels in love with each other. They’d been married for nearly four years now and everyday seemed like their honey moon; every day, he loved just as much – if not, more so - than the day before. Like him, she had perfect olive-coloured skin, and both of them had wonderful, almost athletic bodies. With her long, curled black hair that flowed down her back like a waterfall, her deep, hazel eyes and her beautiful, rose lips, every time he saw her, he just wanted to hold her in his arms, kiss her and desperately try and explain to her just how much he loved her, even though he knew that was impossible.

He heard the ringing sound in his ear, and he sighed deeply. He didn’t what was wrong with him today, but he felt like he just couldn’t do it today. Whether there is an odd feeling in the air or whether he just wasn’t concentrated enough, he was stuck and he felt totally stupid. The ringing continued. ‘Come on, baby … please …’ he muttered quietly to himself. He was desperate to hear her voice again, her sweet voice that would tell him what he needed to know and make everything alright again.

The ringing still continued. It still continued. It continued ringing for what felt like hours. Leo put his head in his hands and despaired. Suddenly, the ringing stopped. Leo lifted his head suddenly with excitement, hope claiming his heart. A young familiar female voice drifted into his ear, but it wasn’t delivering the message he wanted to hear.

“Hello” she said in a very strong Spanish accent, “thank you for calling. Unfortunately, I can’t talk to you at the moment because I am either busy or my phone is off, so please leave a message after the tone and I’ll call you back as soon as possible. Thank you”. A small beep followed. Leo sat still. With all his hopes crushed, he closed his phone, put his phone down on the table and simply sat there with his head in his hands and his eyes shut. He felt like he could cry; even his wife couldn’t help him. He felt totally alone, defeated by a single sentence of Spanish.

“What is wrong with me?” he said quietly to himself, not noticing Jessica walk into the room with a couple more scripts in her hands.

“Whatcha doing, Leo?” she said. Seeing him with his head in his hands, she then asked “Are you alright? Do you need some help?”

Leo had friends who would have replied with something like “No, I’m absolutely fine, I’m just sitting here with my head in my hands, wanting to cry, for no reason whatsoever” or “No, I’m fine, I’m just crap”. But Leo hated sarcasm, and therefore never used it.

“I’m alright, Jess” he said, lifting his head from his hands. “I’m just in a little pit of despair, so to speak”.

“Aww” she said in her slightly American accent. Still clutching the scripts in her arms like they were her children, she walked over to the side of Leo’s chair. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing special” he replied. “I’m just incapable of translating this sentence”. Suddenly he had a thought. He looked at Jessica hopefully.

“I don’t suppose you know any Spanish, do you?”

Jessica looked into his round, shining, hopeful green eyes, desperate to help and even more so not to disappoint. She sighed whilst scanning his eyes and facial features carefully, yet as quickly as possible. She had known in herself for quite sometime now that if he wasn’t already married, she would definitely have given him her number and arranged a romantic meal out for them both by now. She was single, and in her opinion, he was absolutely gorgeous. Clever, loving, caring, hard-working, funny, very handsome … but she knew he could never be hers. She wasn’t heart-broken about it, there were several men who she admired but could never have. If she could have him, she would without a second’s thought, but it doesn’t upset her. They’re great friends, and that’s all that matters to her. She hates being alone.

“Sorry Leo” she said, knowing his hopes had once again been shattered, “the only languages I know are English and American, and they’re pretty much the same thing!” She laughed and tried to encourage him to do the same. He smiled and chuckled lightly, but then he turned back to the script in front of him and sighed – once again – deeply to himself.

Jessica cocked her head to one side, knowing he was upset with himself. One of Leo’s only weaknesses was that if things went wrong for him or if he did something wrong, accidental or not, he always felt bad with himself, which cues guilt and often depression to follow. Thankfully, Alena was a fantastic cure for that, and Leo enjoyed that cure very much, whilst being incredibly grateful for her love and care, of course.

“I know it’s not exactly the best time for this” she said in a rather worried tone of voice, knowing that this news was probably not what Leo wanted to hear right now, “but a couple more scripts arrived through the post this morning for you”. Leo, having looked up at her to hear the news, then drooped his head slightly, really not wanting any more work. This romance script was challenging enough on its own. But in his interview, he said he was hard-working and would have no problems working all day, no matter how challenging the work was, and he was a man of word; he did not break promises lightly.

“There’s three actually” Jessica said, knowing she was making the situation worse, but also knowing she had to let him know the facts he needed to know. “One Italian, one Spanish, and I think this one’s French” she said, looking at the stamp on the front.

“Do you want this French one or not? French not being one of your specialities, I don’t think?”

“No, it isn’t” said Leo, his voice one of whom is tired, lacking energy and lacking incentive to carry on. “I know some French, but only the basics that you could use in France, if you follow (Jessica nodded, understandingly), not enough to translate a whole film script. No, send it to James. I’m sure he’ll be glad to receive it; from what I know, he’s been working on the same script for almost a month now”.

“Really?! Gosh!” said Jessica, not really all that interested but playing along, mainly for Leo’s sake, and so as not to seem rude.

“Well, I’ll leave these two with you then” she said, placing the two rather thick scripts just beyond his computer. “If you get really sick of that one” she said pointing at the romance script with her thin fingers, tipped with blood red fingernails, “you can have a look at some of them. Hopefully they won’t be so challenging”. Leo nodded gratefully.

“Thank you Jess” he said, smiling and going straight back to his previous work.

Jess looked at him, her heart turning very warm inside her as she did so. When someone you greatly admire, either physically, as a person or both, gives a compliment or says something nice to you like that, your heart, soul and spirit leaps within you and you feel wonderful and warm inside. It is the most pleasant of feelings a human can ever experience, and that is how Jessica felt at that moment. She smiled and simply said “You’re welcome” before walking away back to her own office, catching a quick glance of him just before walking out of the door.

Leo ran his hands through his hair and tried to start again with a refreshed mind. He was tempted to ring Alena again to see if she would reply, but he decided that she probably wasn’t answering because she was busy. Busy doing what, he had no idea, but he decided to try and continue this by himself.

Once again, in silence – except for the quiet hum of the fan in the corner - and in stillness, he stared at those eleven words that were driving him crazy. His silence and his concentration were bound together and were like a thick cloud surrounding him, blocking and cutting him off from any other existence or happenings around him. It’s amazing what affect the silence can have on you; how it can feel, how it leads you away to escape from reality, how thick it can be, how it can help you concentrate on one single thing and nothing else, how much we take it for granted. He shut his eyes, thinking in the silence and the stillness, scanning through the many hidden paths of his mind. He thought, and he thought, and he thought …

He thought he so very nearly had it, when suddenly his silence was disturbed. He sighed, his trial of thought now lost. He opened his eyes and listened intently as to what was to blame for ruining his silent period. He heard raised voices, very distant and very quiet from where he was, but it seemed to be coming from the ground floor just below him. At first, he thought little of it. Probably some people just having an argument, he thought. Although he hated people arguing and fighting – as he believed there was never a good enough reason to justify one – he wasn’t prepared to do anything about it at the moment. ‘I’m trying to do my work’ he thought, ‘It’s a good enough excuse’.

But then he realised something. He thought he’d heard wrong or that he was just imagining things, so he listened intently to the voices again. No, he was right. These voices weren’t speaking (or shouting) in English. He listened again … now he was certain. They were definitely speaking Italian. He could hear what language was being spoken, but it was too distant for actual words to be audible. English voices then joined in the conversation, but Italian voices seemed to dominate it. This went on for some time, and although Leo knew he should really just ignore and get on with his work, he was compelled to listen, he was compelled and intrigued to know what was being said and what was going on. He then heard footsteps running upstairs towards his office. He sat up, waiting for something to happen. He didn’t know why he expected something to happen. He didn’t know why he expected something to happen to him. He just had this feeling inside of him. He just knew.

“LEO!!” cried a breathless Jessica, as she plunged her terrified head around the door.

“Leo! Please, you have to help us … the men, downstairs … Leo …”

She collapsed onto her knees against the wall. Leo immediately left his chair and went over to help her. He held her hand and told her to calm down. She began to take large, deep breaths, whilst Leo offered her his chair.

“No!” she cried, still breathless. “No! There’s no time”.

“No time?” said Leo, calm but confused. “What do you mean ‘ no time’?”

“NO!” she cried desperately, gripping his shoulders. “Leo! You have to listen to me! There are men downstairs, mad men, Leo, but they’ll … oh God…”

“What?” said Leo. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“NO!!” she cried ever more urgently. Tears streamed down her face as she became more and more hysterical. “This is no joke, Leo!!”

She gasped for air and swallowed numerous times in an attempt to calm down. Leo looked at her in a way he had never done so before. What was she talking about? What was going on?

She stood up – with some help from Leo – and moved towards the corridor beyond the door.

“Follow me” she said, much calmer now, but her voice had a tone not only containing her own fear, but containing a fear that set itself in the hearts of those listening too. Leo, bewildered and confused, followed her. They walked down the stairs. Leo could still hear the Italian voices shouting, and was now close enough to understand the actual words being said.

“Jessica” said Leo sternly, “what’s going on? What’s happening down there?”

“Shh!!” she said as quietly yet as fiercely as possible. Just before the last corner on the stairs before they reached the ground floor, she stopped him. She turned to face him, her face straight and serious, her terror hidden beneath her mask.

“Leo” she whispered, perfectly serious, yet with fear clearly present in her voice, “you can understand them, it’s your mother tongue. What are they saying?”

Leo lifted his head and listened. He remained still and silent, listening to the males shouting below him, for almost a minute.

“They’re just shouting” he said at last. She glared at him, demanding answers. He looked at her and read her face perfectly. “They’re just shouting, Jessica, that’s all they’re doing”.

“I know that” she said, almost spitting through gritted teeth. To the normal eavesdropper, it would sound like she was angry, but Leo knew she wasn’t angry at him, but scared. “Answer me Leo: what are they saying?”

Leo listened again, but this time, not for quite as long.

“They’re arguing” he said, a slightly baffled look appearing on his face.

“They’re trying to put a point across”.

“What are they arguing about, Leo?” She looked up at him, once again gripping his shoulders, the tears making her eyes glisten and her lips trembling with fear. Leo looked into those eyes, and along with his own confusion, felt only pity for her.

“Tell me Leo,” she said, still whispering, shaking her hands that still gripped the shoulders of Leo’s shirt, “are they going to kill us all?”

Leo’s eyes widened at this statement.

“What?” he said silently.

She opened her mouth to reply, but suddenly Leo stopped her. He placed his hand swiftly yet gently over the lips and looked towards the corner they had to turn to reach the ground floor. His eyes widened still as he understand what was just said.

Jessica, fearing the worst, asked him what they said.

“They’ve heard us” he replied.

Jessica understood perfectly. “Come with me” she said.

She turned round the corner, but was instantly pulled back by Leo.

“Who are these people?” he asked her, looking straight into her eyes. “Have you been down with them? Why do you see them as such a threat?”

Jessica remained calm and told him the truth as simply as possible.

“You’ll understand when you go down there” she said, the odd tear still running down her face. “But Leo …” she said, taking a step towards him so she was as close to him as possible, “if anything happens to us down there, just know …” She hesitated. “Just know I love you”.

Leo, being lost for words, simply looked at her, having never even considered that she thought about him that way. She stepped away from him and led the way down the stairs. He followed her. Down the stairs they walked. Jessica reached her arm back and clutched Leo’s hand with her own. He felt her hand, and could almost feel the fear running through her veins she was so scared. He held her hand in return, just to show her that although he did not love her as a partner, he was there for her as a friend.

They walked under the archway that ended the stairs and led to the ground floor. Instantly, the butt of a gun flew down and struck Jessica on the head. She fell to the floor without a gasp or a scream, hitting the floor with a thud and a crack as her head sharply hit the cold, hard, stone floor along with the rest of her body.

Leo, shocked by this, went down to this knees by her side to help her. But he wasn’t even able to touch her before he found himself staring down the barrel of a sniper gun, which was equally staring him in the face.

“Stand up” said a harsh, deep, male voice in Italian.

Leo, understanding the man perfectly well, stood up, his hands now by his ears. He now realised why Jessica had been so scared of these men. There were many of them scattered around the room and the reception area, all wearing black, even over their faces, every single one of them carrying guns, some of them aiming them at people threateningly. Leo, as unobtrusively as possible, looked around the room for any dead. Thankfully, he found none.

“Lower your hands” he said.

Leo did so, and for some unknown reason, felt more confident than anyone else in the room. For some unknown reason, he felt no fear. He was not scared of these men.

“You understand fluent Italian?” the man asked him bluntly.

Leo thought this was a bit of a silly question to ask him, considering that the man had said not one, but two orders to him in Italian, both of which he had understood and obeyed. But also considering that this man was carrying a sniper gun and didn’t look afraid to use it, he decided not to question him and simply answered his question.

“Ci” Leo replied.

The man nodded at him, acknowledging the fact that Leo was not afraid of him like the others were. The man continued to speak to Leo, and still Leo remained unafraid. In all honesty, he was more confused than anything. The man began to speak to Leo again. This time, however, his voice was much harder and more demanding.

“I am not stupid enough to tell you’re my real name, so you will call me Armanno. I’m going to ask you a question and I want you to answer me quickly and truthfully. If you don’t …”

At this point, without even looking or aiming, he fired his gun numerous times at the floor, making several people gasp loudly and scream in shock and pure terror. Armanno, showing nothing emotion at all, stared continuously at Leo.

“Do you understand?”

Leo nodded. “I understand” he said plainly. Everyone watched these two men, having no idea what was being said, but being terrified of what would, could or might happen.

Armanno looked around at his comrades, then stepped towards Leo, his broad shoulders and strong, muscular body towering threateningly about an inch above Leo.

“One question” said Armanno. “That’s all. Answer it for me, and no-one is hurt”.

Leo nodded.

Suspense gripped people so tightly in that room, it was almost strangling them. These two Italians glared at each other, one in unreasonable anger, the other in calm confidence that he is innocent and had done no wrong. Silence also filled the room. The only sound that was made was when these two men spoke, neither of them speaking at the same time; no shouting or arguing, just simple talking like civilised people. Not even the fan made a noise.

Bravely, Leo spoke first.

“What do you want here?”

Armanno’s eyes widened as he glared down at Leo. He almost seemed to be insulted by Leo’s question. But Leo simply looked at him like he would any other person; there were no superiors or inferiors here; they were just men.

“You ask no questions of me!” said Armanno harshly and quite rudely. “You said you understood me?!”

“I understand you perfectly” said Leo, bravery showing, yet he knew inside he must be careful with his words. He looked at the man with an expression on his face of ‘Don’t be angry with me. I have done no wrong to you’.

“What is your question, Sir?” he asked.

“I ask the question” said Armanno, “not you”.

Leo nodded.

Armanno, once again, looked around at his colleagues, who all nodded at him, encouraging him on. The man then turned back to Leo.

“Where is the money?”

Leo, expecting a lot more self-challenging question, was rather taken aback by this.

“Sorry?” he replied.

Armanno’s eyes widened again, so much so that his eyelids almost reached his hairline. His face was turning slightly red as he began to get angry (quite unreasonably, in Leo’s opinion).

“I told you to answer my question quickly and truthfully!!” he said. He clicked a trigger on his gun and quickly pointed it at a group of people huddling in the corner, guarded by one of the man’s comrades.

“No!” said Leo, quickly. “No violence!”

The two men stared at each other, the same as before, only now, Leo’s face was full of sudden concern for the people all around him under threat.

“I’m sorry” said Leo rather hurriedly, but making sure it sounded like he truly meant it. “Please repeat the question for me. I will answer quickly and truthfully this time”.

Armanno still glared at him angrily.

“Do not mock me” he said slowly. If there’s one thing Italians hate most, it’s being mocked or insulted. That and your wife cheating on you, of course.

“I would never mock you” said Leo plainly, knowing this conversation was going downhill.

“I will ask you one more time” said Armanno again, “where is the money?!”

“What money?” said Leo, being sorely tempted to laugh, but knowing that if he did, he would probably end up either having a bullet through someone’s neck or a bullet through his own.

“There is no money here”.

Armanno glared at him still.

“Where else do you keep money apart from a bank?” said Armanno.

Now Leo very nearly did laugh. It was so very tempting, as he now realised the large problem this man now had. Not only could he not speak a word of English, he couldn’t read a word of it either, which probably explains how he read the map to arrive here.

“I think you have made a mistake, Senor” said Leo. “This is not a bank; this is the company building of TRANSFILM. We translate films, dub them and sell them across the globe. There is no money here, only film scripts”.

Leo looked at him, hiding the humour he’d found in this situation; everyone else looked at Leo and Armanno standing before him in utter bewilderment (due to the fact that they had no idea what was being said) and Armanno looked at Leo in some form of confusion, shock and horror that he hid behind his macho face. He repeated Leo’s last line to his comrades, the volume of his voice rising each time he said it as his blood began to boil and his anger rose.

“May I explain the situation to my friends in English?” asked Leo gently.

Armanno turned back to Leo in anger and hidden embarrassment, and swiftly thrust his hand around Leo’s neck. Gasps filled the room.

“I will never curse my ears with the sound of that language!” He spat at Leo. He fired his gun wildly around the room.

“Alright! Alright!” cried Leo. “Please, stop the gunfire!!”

Armanno pushed his gun sharply into Leo’s throat. People, though terrified, prepared themselves for a brutal murder.

“You will find me the money. Now” he said.

Leo almost begged with him.

“But there is no money. I have none to give you!”

Armanno glared at Leo ever more, their faces now so close, their noses were almost touching.

Leo protested. “But I have no money!!”

A silence filled the room once more, until once again, it was disturbed. But this time, not by male voices, nor by Italian dialogue, but by the sound of doors opening. No-one took much notice until a female voice echoed around the room that was familiar only to one man.

“Oh my God … Leo, NO!!”

A beautiful, olive-skinned woman, with her black hair swaying all around her, came running forwards towards Leo and the Italian man. The Italian instantly aimed the gun threateningly at her.

“Don’t move, brutta !!” he shouted at her. She instantly stopped running, terror clear in her face.

“How dare you!!” shouted Leo, becoming angry for the first time in that situation. “She’s innocent! She’s done no wrong to you!!”

“Leo, stop it!” cried Alena, “You’ll get yourself hurt!!”

“ENOUGH!!” cried Armanno. He pulled the gun away from Leo’s neck and pushed him sharply away, slamming him against the wall. Alena shrieked and ran over to him. She ran over to his side as a dazed Leo pushed himself up to a sitting position.

“Leo, my darling …” she said, hurriedly, as she was still shocked from what she’d just seen. “I only came here to see if you were alright. I was worried when you called me. I’m sorry I didn’t answer, my phone wasn’t on. I’m sorry, honey. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine” he said quickly. “I’m fine, I’m alright” He smiled. “I’m glad you’re here …”

She smiled at him. They loved each other so much. Even those who didn’t understand what they were saying saw the romance between them and smiled with them. Alena leant forward, about to kiss him, but then suddenly screamed as she was dragged to her feet by her long, flowing hair.

“Wait!” cried Leo. “Stop! NO, Alena!!”

“Leo!!” she cried through screams of pain and fear.

A gun point was thrust against her temple.

The huge Armanno, now so unbelievably angry, he almost didn’t look human, held her tightly.

“Give me the money” he said evilly, “or she dies”.

Leo stared at him in horror. Looking at Alena, he couldn’t let any harm come to her, but there was no money to give this man. He was insane. What was he to do?

He then spoke loudly and clearly to his friends and colleagues in English.

“Are there any safes here? Any banks, any safes, any large amounts of money stored anywhere in this building? Anyone! Anywhere!!”

Not a sound.

“Tell me now!!” shouted Leo in desperation.

“Do not ever speak that scum of a language in front of me!” shouted Armanno in his own tongue.

He pulled the trigger.

“NO!!” cried Leo. ‘He couldn’t have done’ he thought, ‘He wouldn’t … surely …’

Alena gasped in shock as the bullet shredded her shoulder blade.

Eyes and mouth wide open, blood pouring out from her shoulder, pain and shock sweeping through her body, she stared at Leo.

“Leo …” she said faintly. She was absolutely petrified.

“Alena …” he said, equally terrified.

“I don’t know what to do …” he said.

“Give me the money” said Armanno.

Leo and Alena stared at each other.

“Give me the money now!!”