the shipyard, don’t leave this car. Roscoe will stay with you.” I say, checking the magazine before slamming it back into place and pulling back the slide to chamber a round with a resounding chink.
“What? Why?” Lexie looks from the gun in my hand to me. She’s eager to get there, eager to come to the little girls’ rescue. And she will, I’ll make sure of it. But shipments like this come with some pretty grizzly reinforcement to ensure the cargo makes it to the destination, there’s too much money on the line to leave it up to chance. And I’ll be damned if I let Lexie step into harms way, little girls or not. Lottie Harris might be the job, but Lexie is my priority.
“This shipment will come with some kind of security,” I explain, deciding that honesty is the best approach in this situation. “We don’t know what kind of situation we’re about to walk into. I need you to stay safely in the car until it’s cleared.” Lexie nods in understanding. She’s smart, I know she realizes the reality of these circumstances. Her eyes latch to mine, insistent.
“Those girls have already been through so much, they’re gonna be traumatized. They’re probably terrified out of their minds, especially of men. I should be there when you open the container, not a bunch of goons with guns.” She has a point, something I’ve already considered. Lexie is a big part of the plan, mostly to find Lottie and get her safely into the car before the others arrive.
“I’ll come get you once it’s safe. You don’t leave this car until I come for you.” My eyes drill into hers. The gravity of my words hit her, I can see when they register. She blinks at me once, processing, then she nods in agreement. A small weight lifts from my chest.
“Ok, I’ll wait for you.”
Thank fucking Christ.
She knows exactly what’s at stake, not letting her emotions towards the young victims cloud her judgment. My instructions aren’t a power trip, they’re what’s best for everyone involved. She doesn’t realize just how much her safety matters. The last thing I need is Lexie going rogue on me and putting herself in danger. If anything happens to this woman, there’s no contract or job that will keep the world safe from my wrath.
“That’s my girl.” There’s a soft edge of praise in my voice, warming her eyes. My pretty pink nurse, with her soft curves wrapped in pastel pink scrubs, and long blonde hair pulled into a ponytail. She’s a ray of light, exactly what we need.
Climbing out of the car, I walk around the corner of the metal hangar to where the rest of the team parked. Enzo stands with the hired guns, seven of them total. I’ve worked with The Ghost Ops team on numerous occasions. Their team leader, Rio Castillo, is the best at what they do—it’s something we have in common. And I need the best. I’m leaving nothing to chance.
Greeting the team, I update them on the new details we extracted from Jimmy while getting our intercoms set up. Rio instructs his men on our approach, taking this new info into account. We’ll be treating this freight yard like a grid, each Ghost taking a section. Enzo and I will take the perimeter and work our way towards the center. Once the right container is found and secured, I’ll collect Lexie before we open it.
Unholstering their weapons, the team splits up into their assignments. I slowly make my way along the outside of the shipyard, hugging the stacked containers with my gun drawn. My earpiece beeps as one of the other men reports to the group.
“We have a sighting in sector two, lower west corner. Armed with automatic.” The voice reports. Gunshots ring out, echoing through the metal maze, followed by male shouts. Turning the corner, I see movement out of the corner of my eye.
Enzo walks around from the other side to meet me in the middle. I slow my steps, allowing him to reach the center aisle before me. Rounding the corner slowly, he visually clears the area before stepping into the opening. Waiting for him to pass the first intersection, I follow behind him. After Enzo passes the opening between rows of containers, an armed man emerges from the shadows behind him. His casual clothing, unmarked bullet-proof vest, and the automatic weapon slung on across his chest tell me that he’s one of the traffickers we’re here to take care of.
His sweaty arms lift the semi-automatic weapon, aiming at Enzo’s retreating form with intent in his beady eyes. He’s going to shoot, but I don’t give him the chance. Raising my own gun, I beat him to the trigger. The bullet explodes from the chamber and enters the side of his skull cleanly, the life leaving him instantly as his body falls like a puppet with cut strings. The sound of my gun echoes through the alley of metal walls, making Enzo turn. He watches as I lower my gun, looking at the dead man. There’s no hesitation when he pivots to stride back towards me.
“I guess I owe you one,” he comments knowingly, eyeing his would-be executioner.
“I’ll think of a way for you to repay me. You can start by getting rid of him.” The last thing I want is Lexie to see the dead body. The body of a man I just pulled the trigger on without even blinking. The sight would break her heart, I need to protect her from it. Plus, we can’t have dead bodies scattered around when we bring the girls out of the container. Hysterics aren’t part of today’s plan.
“I’m on it.” Enzo holsters his weapon to unarm the corpse, slinging the machine gun over his shoulder, before dragging the dead man away by his ankles.
“We’re clear. Freight container ACMU 2834661.” Tarik’s voice sounds in my ear. Perfect. I’m already making my way back to where I left Lexie in the car, my legs moving with a purpose.
“Stand by, don’t open it until I give the order.”
“Copy.”
Relief floods Lexie’s face when I open the car door, her expressive eyes searching me for signs of injury. “I heard the gunshots.”
“I’m ok, Dewdrop,” I assure her. “It’s safe for you to come out now.” I hold my hand out to her, and she accepts it without pause. Helping her out of the car, I make eye contact with Roscoe over her head where he sits in the driver’s seat, gun ready. I nod my thanks, and he’s moving to open the door and join us.
Keeping her hand in mine, Lexie’s other arm wraps around my bicep. I can feel her nerves, and I can’t help but revel in how she clings to me for comfort. She trusts me to keep her safe, an honor I don’t plan on failing.
The men back away from the container as soon as the doors are open, taking their large firearms and stepping out of sight. Lexie’s grip on my arm shifts with anxiety, and I look down at the top of her blonde head. Giving her hand a reassuring squeeze, she glances up at me before her shoulders straighten with determination. Letting go of my arm, I let her step away to approach the container. It’s almost completely dark inside the metal box, making it an adjustment to see what’s inside.
Huddled closely together in the farthest corner, the girls cling together in terror. No less than fifty dirty little heads cower, eyes casting alarmed glances at the open doors, squinting against the harsh sunlight. Their whimpers and cries echo and drift out into the open afternoon.
Lexie takes slow, careful steps towards the opening. When she speaks, her tone is soft and gentle. Nurturing. “My name is Lexie, I’m a nurse. No one is going to hurt you anymore. We’re here to help you, take you home.” She looks over her shoulder at me, our eyes connecting briefly. “I know you’re scared. These men look scary, but they’re not going to hurt you. I promise, you’re safe now.”
She takes a few steps farther into the container, stopping to give the girls plenty of space. They shift as a group, clearly unsure as they cling together and eye Lexie uncertainly. Sensing their hesitation, Lexie crouches to put herself closer to their eye level. She keeps her body language open and honest—just a warm woman in her pink scrubs.
“Is one of you named Lottie? Lottie, your dad sent us to find you.” Her eyes scan the group, but its difficult to distinguish features between the darkness and the unkempt state of the girls. But I notice the dark haired head that lifts at the mention of the name. Lexie sees her too, but she remains calm.
“It’s ok, Lottie.” She makes eye contact with the dark haired girl in the center of the group. Lexie inches closer, holding out her hand. “Your dad told me to tell you he’s waiting for you with Winston. We’re here to take you home. We’re going to take you all home.”
At the mention of her bulldog, the little girl steps closer. Lottie looks at her hand for a split second, the rest of the group watching for her lead. Charlotte Harris reaches out for Lexie’s hand, a sob of relief escaping her as she stumbles into Lexie’s open arms. She hugs her tightly, sobs wracking her little body. Like the tap of the first domino, the rest of the group follows suit. Several girls reach for Lexie’s embrace.
Taking her time, Lexie stays in place for several minutes just holding Lottie and consoling the other girls. Her voice softly asks them questions; if anyone needs medical attention, what their names are. She tells them that me and my men are here to help them, that they don’t need to be afraid of us even though we look ‘big and scary’.
When she finally stands, Lottie in her arms, she leads the girls out into the light. The sight of each girl—dirty, exhausted, looking half starved, and so young—the anger and disgust grows inside me. The sick fucks that find pleasure in taking them, in using them. They all deserve a slow and painful death. I wish I could kill Jimmy all over again, this time without holding back. He didn’t deserve the mercy he was shown, his end was far too quick.
My eyes latch onto Lexie, tracking her every move as she slowly walks the girls out. I pull out my phone and make the call. The answer is immediate, they’ve been waiting for my contact. “We’re clear. Send them in.”
I nod to Roscoe, signaling that’s it’s time to move. Leaning down, I speak close to Lexie’s ear. “Take Lottie and go with Roscoe,” I instruct her, pulling her from the flock of little girls.
“Why? What are you gonna do?” she asks, looking up at me.
“I’m going to get these girls home safely,” I explain briefly. “No one can know Lottie was ever here, so I need you to take her with you.” She blinks up at me three times as she nods in understanding.
Lowering back into a crouch to speak with the girls eye to eye is a balancing act with Lottie still in her arms. Lexie gathers all the girls together and tells them to stay here. She assures them that all the men here are going to help them get home safely. Despite Lexie’s assurances, the girls start to cry and protest when Lexie pulls herself away to follow Roscoe to the car with Lottie in tow.
The sound of the approaching chopper announces their arrival. My team keeps the girls contained as the US Navy SEAL team arrives on the scene. I step forward to greet the six man military team.
“Welcome to the party, Ace,” I call to the man leading the pack. Commander Anthony “Ace” Jacobs, the team leader of SEAL team four, walks over to me looking every bit the clean-cut boy scout he is. His eyes scan the scene.
“You’ve got quite the turnout,” he comments. “I’m counting fifty-seven girls.”
“From our intel they range from six to eleven years old. We don’t have names or home addresses, so getting them back to their parents might be difficult.”
“Don’t worry, we have ways to get that information,” Ace assures me. He runs a hand over his blonde buzz cut as a plan forms behind his brown eyes. “The people who did this?”
“They’ll be dealt with,” I state, earning a nod of approval.
“Alright,” he says, straightening his shoulders and signaling to his team. “Let’s get these girls home.”
***
“Do you have her?” Richard Harris’ desperation barks into my ear before the end of the first ring. My eyes land on the little girl across from me.
“We have her,” I answer. “She’s neglected but uninjured. We’re administering medical care as we speak. We touch down in five hours and forty seven minutes. Meet us on the tarmac, and have the rest of my payment for delivery.”
“Thank god,” Harris mutters, his wife’s cry of elated relief ringing through the phone. “I’ll have your payment.”
“I’ll text you during our descent.”
“We’ll be there.”
My gaze only drifts to the child briefly before returning to the beautiful woman cradling her. It’s impossible to take my eyes off her. Lexie sits on the sofa, Lottie’s dirty head in her lap. Tender fingers stroke the little girl’s dark knotted locks, gently untangling and comforting as the rocking of the plane lulls the girl to sleep. Her attention moves diligently to the IV drip hanging beside them, monitoring the line flowing into the back of the child’s hand.
Lexie’s eyes meet mine, catching me staring. Unashamed, I don’t look away. I can’t. The small smile she gives me—filled with so much relief, hope, and joy—pierces my chest and runs through my veins like a drug.
“How is she?” I ask, keeping my voice low so I don’t disturb the sleeping child. Lexie takes a moment to look at the little girl in her lap before answering.
“She’s dehydrated, malnourished, and she’ll need therapy for PTSD.” Her eyes lift to mine. “But she’s resilient, and the IV is already helping. Until she gets a full physical exam, there’s no way to tell exactly what she’s been through. But from what I’ve seen, that’s the extent of it. God, I hope that’s the extent of it.”
The chances that Lottie’s been sexually violated are slim, but it’s not impossible. Men like Jimmy and his guys are exactly the type to sample the merchandise before the sale, including women. But with this particular type of transaction, the value relies on the girls remaining unharmed. And more often then not, their condition is verified before payment. Virginity sells, and underage virgins sell for even more.
Sick fucks.
“The girls are worth more untouched. It’s all about the money.” It’s not much of a consolation, but it’s something. The disgust and contempt that crosses Lexie’s face expresses exactly how I feel right now. But she nods in understanding, looking back down at the girl.
“I was going to examine her, but I don’t want to traumatize her any more than she already is. When we land, it’s important for her parents to have her properly checked. And by a woman. The last thing she needs is to get home and have a man poke at her while she’s undressed.”
Peering at Lexie, the conviction is rolling off her in waves. “You can tell Harris exactly what she needs when we land,” I inform her. Her focus moves to me briefly before returning to the IV drip.
“Ok, I will,” she states confidently. My lips twitch with a smile, and I’m suddenly looking forward to seeing Richard Harris again. Just so I can watch Lexie give him orders.
The landing goes smoothly. True to his word, Richard Harris and his wife, Alyssa, are anxiously waiting on the tarmac. The moment the stairs are lowered, Lexie exits the plane with little Lottie’s hand in hers. I follow them down the stairs, my eyes meeting Harris’ before he and his wife are rushing towards their daughter.
“Mom! Dad!” The instant she spots her parents, Lottie is running. Alyssa crouches down to scoop her daughter into her waiting arms, sobbing as she hugs her tightly. The Senator wraps his arms around both his wife and daughter in a family embrace, kissing his daughter’s head.
Making eye contact with me over his wife’s head, the Senator murmurs something into Alyssa’s ear before nodding for me to follow him. We take a few steps away from the little family reunion to speak privately.
“Any problems?” he asks, making me shake my head.
“Everything went according to plan.”
“The wire’s complete,” Harris says. Pressing the button on my screen, the long number after the dollar sign doesn’t match our agreement.
“This is too much. You know the agreement.” I set my prices with a purpose. Sticking to the number we agreed on keeps things clean and simple. I’m not going to owe someone or leave a loose end untied just for another comma in a bank statement. That’s unnecessarily messy.
My eyes cut to him, his focus latched on his daughter and wife’s embrace. Lexie is speaking with Alyssa softly as she cradles the sad child, informing her of the medical care she received before arrival.
“I know,” Harris says, his eyes not leaving his family. “I have something else I want you to do.”
“Harris, you know how this works. If you want another job, that means another contract.”
“It’s for this job,” Harris clarifies. “I want you to take out the men who did this. And I want them to suffer.”
“Consider it done.” After seeing those little girls walk out of the container, I was ready to exact my own wrath on the sick fucks who were responsible. The additional payment is just a bonus. He nods shortly, his expression grave. With our business done, we rejoin the women.
“How is she?” Harris asks, stroking Lottie’s hair while his daughter’s head is tucked into her mom’s shoulder.
“She’ll need to have a full medical exam as soon as possible.” Lexie informs the Senator. Harris nods, his hand stroking his daughter’s hair.
“Of course,” he acknowledges. “Our private physician, Tanya Redding, is on standby.”
“Great.” Lexie’s tone remains calm. “I’ve seen trafficking victims before in my line of work. It’s going to take some time for her to feel comfortable around men again. Including you, Senator. It’s important to keep an eye on her, but with female staff instead of your armed men in suits. And routine will help her feel safe again.”
“I understand,” Harris confirms.
“I know you’re trying to keep this as quiet as possible, but she should see someone to work through this trauma. The sooner the better.”
“My wife has a therapist we can trust.” The Senator assures her. Lexie nods, I can see the relief cross her face.
“Good.”
“I knew you were the man I needed,” Harris states, holding out his hand to shake mine. He then moves to Lexie, shaking her hand in thanks as well.
“Thank you so much.” Alyssa’s voice is thick with emotion, her eyes moving between the two of us as she caresses her daughter. “You have no idea. Just, thank you.”
“Of course,” Lexie says with a nod, gazing at the little girl earnestly. “Take care of her.” When she looks up at me, her expressive eyes are misting with unshed tears. Placing my hand on the small of her back, we turn to walk to our waiting car.
“Bye Nurse Lexie.” Lottie’s soft voice has Lexie pausing. She offers the little girl a soft smile and a wave before allowing me to lead her away. Tucking her into my side on the drive home, tears stream down Lexie’s face. I’m not sure if they’re happy or sad tears—I’m pretty sure she doesn’t know either.
