by Dale Mayer
“Not that many men are here. What’s the chance of overtaking them?”
Jessie spun around, scoping out her surroundings, then looked at Brenna and said, “I’ve seen at least twelve, and they’re all armed.”
“And there’s eight of us,” Brenna fired right back.
“So they kill us. That just means they’ll lose out on eight commissions.”
“And you know what? If it comes to that,” Brenna said, “I’m okay with that too.”
Jessie nodded slowly. “I get what you’re saying. Better to die trying than to be taken as a prisoner for whatever purposes they have.” She continued, “But, if you truly believe that somebody will be looking for us—given the fact that we’re public figures and that our bosses should have put out a cry for help—we have to give the SEALs as much time as they can to get here.”
“I know,” Brenna said, “but we also have to help ourselves to stay alive regardless.”
Just then a commotion was heard farther down. As they watched, another line of women came their way, moved at gunpoint.
“Crap,” Brenna said. “Here are more.”
After that, they just stayed quiet and watched as another group and then another group and then another group arrived. It disgusted Brenna. But it completely amazed her that so many women could go missing around the world, and seemingly nobody cared. And, of course, it didn’t mean that nobody cared. It just meant that, so far, nobody had mounted a defense to get the women back. If they even knew where they were.
Conversations were stilted, but one of the newcomers did speak English. She looked over, smiled weakly, and said, “I was in Tunisia. Visiting friends.”
“And your friends, are they okay?”
“I hope they rot in hell,” she said. “As they’re the ones behind what happened to me.”
Brenna stared at her in shock.
The woman nodded. “Apparently this friend of mine has been holding a grudge, and this was a perfect opportunity.”
“Wow, with friends like that,” she said, “who needs enemies?”
“I know,” she said. “But I’ll live, just so I can get back at them.”
“I hope you make it,” she said, “because that is unbelievable, to do this to somebody you actually know.”
“Not only just know,” she said, “we went to school together.”
“So why does she hate you so much?”
“Because she loves my husband.”
“Ah, so a spurned lover?”
“More or less,” she said, “and it’s still no excuse.” She leaned against the wood corral. “My understanding is we’re being sold, and they hold these auctions every few months. Some of us were held captive for a while before being moved, while they collected others,” she said. “I was just picked up a few days ago.”
“So were we,” Brenna said. She looked at her and asked, “Do you have any martial arts skills? Do you have any skills that will help get us out of here?”
The woman shook her head. “I’m a scholar,” she said, “an academic. The last thing anybody here cares about.”
“I hear you, she said, “but also, being American, you’ll have more value. At least that’s what I’m getting from some of them.”
“I don’t think it’s so much American as white women,” she said. “Besides I’m British.”
“Okay, that makes sense too,” Brenna murmured. “It’s sad, and it sucks, but I guess that’s where we are already. We’re journalists, came to cover what was happening in Libya.”
“That’s always fun,” the woman said in a snide tone. “I’m Annie, by the way.”
“Hi, Annie,” Brenna said. “We have to do something.” She looked at the other women.
Annie looked at her with a sarcastic smile. “You know that I’m totally okay for whatever gets me out of here. Particularly if I stay alive,” she said, “because now I have my own reason to live.”
“Absolutely,” she said. “I just want to get back home again.”
“Got it, but you got anything in mind? If you’re Americans, does anybody know you’re over here?”
“We’re media, so, yes and yes, there should be people coming,” she said. “But them finding us? That is another story.”
“I think this is a pretty hidden spot,” Annie said. “Most governments can’t condone this behavior.”
“Out here nobody gives a shit.”
“Exactly, but we’ll see.”
“Right.” As Brenna encircled the paddock, the head count was now thirty-eight women, counting her and Jessie, and she joined Jessie to share. “We’re up to thirty-eight now.”
“It’s still not good odds,” Jessie said.
Annie looked at Brenna. “What odds?”
Brenna shrugged. “Originally we had twelve armed men and only eight of us, but now we have thirty-eight women.”
“Some of the women came with more gunmen,” Jessie said.
Annie nodded. “I noticed.”
At that, Brenna didn’t even know what to say because more gunmen was the worst outcome possible.
“How much farther do you think we have to travel?” Jerricho studied his GPS and the sky, as they needed intel that would get them the closest to the suspected inland auction site, while they landed the boat and then proceeded on foot.
“I’d say another three miles up the coast,” Killian murmured.
Can we get some satellite images on this? Jerricho sent the message to Diesel.
On it.
“If they’re selling women at an auction,” Jerricho said, “and it’s in a few days, they must have a place big enough to hold them. I heard it could be held outside. It’s probably safer.”
“Only if they’re in a spot where they suspect nobody will ever trip over them,” he said.
They pondered the maps but found an awful lot of open space here. “They need to be near roads and close to the waterways.”
“Exactly,” Killian said, “everybody needs access. Everybody needs a way to get in with their goods, and the bidders and buyers need a way to get out.”
“The bidding probably will be done online,” Jerricho murmured.
Killian looked at him. “I hadn’t thought of that. If you consider that, the buyers don’t have to be here in person. Although they could have representatives here instead.”
“And that would make sense too,” he said. “Disgusting but makes sense.” Jerricho’s phone went off then. Instructions read 3.5 miles. Just ditch the boat and make sure it’s ready for pickup later. You’ve got a five-mile hike into the middle of nowhere. Satellite feeds coming. Jerricho read the message to Killian.
And Killian watched his laptop and stopped. “You know the only reason that they even looked in this direction is that we’re here,” he said, “but look at this. Granted, there’s a time delay with this feed, so not current.” In the satellite feed showing up on his laptop, they saw a large group of people. Armed gunmen wandering around. No buildings but some fence or containment system.
“Do you think that’s the holding area for the women?” Jerricho asked, as he piloted the boat.
“I wouldn’t be at all surprised,” Killian responded.
Jerricho quickly sent back a text. Can you check if women are inside the paddock?
The response came back. Can’t from this distance. Working on it.
He nodded. “They’re working on it.” We need to know how many gunmen are there.
Diesel quickly sent back a text. We’re counting fifteen.
All rifles?
Semiautomatics came back.
“Yeah, it’s just so hard to see on this laptop,” Killian murmured. “We don’t have enough firepower for this.”
At that, Jerricho looked at his partner, nodded, and said, “And now we have an awful lot more victims. We don’t want them hurt in the fight either.”
“And, if we take them, we’ll need a place to put them.”
“We’re not leaving them behind.” He se
nt a message back to Diesel. We’ll need help.
What do you want?
He thought about it for a moment. Another ship to carry all the women away, and a couple more snipers would be good.
“That’s all you want?” Killian looked at him.
“Yeah,” he said, “if you get too many in this mix, it’ll be a massacre.”
“You don’t want to do just that?”
“I want to kill off all the human traffickers,” he said, “but I’ll be happy with picking them off one by one.”
“So two snipers take out two at a time, and we’ll take out two and then what?”
“Yeah, that’ll be part of that plan that I haven’t got organized yet,” he said, with a big grin.
“Good,” Killian said, “let me know when you do get there.”
And without saying anything else, Jerricho turned back to the maps in front of them. It was a joy to work with somebody like Killian. There was so much trust. Jerricho was more worried about what condition Brenna was in at this time. Although what he didn’t understand was how she ended up in this spot as it was. And, when he got a chance, he would ask her about that.
There had been so much spunk to her. There had been an awful lot of attitude at the same time back then in their history and an awful arrogance that just went along with being young, beautiful, wealthy, and entitled. He hadn’t met anybody who had quite the same self-confidence that she had. He didn’t know if it was a good or a bad thing at this point. Maybe, if they had a chance, he could spend some time with her and see where she was at now. He didn’t feel guilty about where they had left off. At the time of their divorce, he’d been grateful for the new opportunity he’d been given.
He’d bolted, along with the rest of the guys, into the navy, and they’d all told him that he had a lucky escape. And it had taken him years to figure out they were right. Particularly after he realized that she’d gotten married again. And so fast. Maybe it hadn’t even been all that fast. Maybe he’d been the only one who had been blistered by burned love. But he’d grown and learned, and he had gone on to become a better person. Hopefully she had too. He looked at the world around him.
“Hang on, Brenna. I’m coming. I don’t know what mess you got yourself into this time, but I’m here. Or I will be. Give us at least a couple hours. And then we’ll be there.”
And, with that, he continued to trawl up the coast, looking for the best location where they would dock. After that, they were going on foot, and he had to trust that Diesel had additional backup coming. Somebody had to have Jerricho’s back and Killian’s back at this point. And it would always be men he knew. They were bros all the way.
Chapter 4
Brenna was shaken roughly awake. She shifted, opening her mouth. “What?”
A hand was clapped over her mouth, and Jessie’s voice in her ear said, “Quiet. You need to wake up now.”
Brenna’s eyes popped open. “What’s going on?” she asked her friend in a hoarse whisper.
“I’m not sure,” Jessie said, “but something is.”
Brenna shifted, so she could look around her at the corral and beyond. Everybody had collapsed on the ground, trying to sleep the best they could like this, outside. The ground inside and outside of the pen where they were was littered with these curious humps. Buried bodies of women who didn’t make it?
Jessie pointed farther out.
The only thing Brenna saw was one man walking around at the far side of the corral, where a gate was, to make sure nobody got out. If the women needed to go to the bathroom, they were taken up the hill to a little bit of a brush area and allowed to relieve themselves. No toilet paper, no hygiene, and most of the women were doing their best to stay in control. But, right now, even the guard wasn’t moving. He stood, watching something on the shore. “More women?” Brenna whispered.
“I don’t know,” Jessie said, sliding up, so she stood against the fence, peering over the side.
They didn’t dare get any closer to the guard at the gate because he would likely turn and just shoot them. They hadn’t seen that level of violence yet, and they knew that, as women, they were worth a particular amount. They had been well treated so far, under these dire circumstances. It was obvious that the gunmen were trying to keep the women in good shape for the upcoming auction.
As the two of them huddled together, listening, Brenna heard shouts from down below. As it was dark, with no lights out here, she thought she saw a boat drifting toward shore. Several men stood at the water’s edge and yelled, their rifles pointed at the approaching craft. And then, at a specific order from somebody, shots rang out. As soon as the first one rang out, multiples rang out.
“You think this is a rescue?” Jessie asked.
“It’s possible,” she said, “but it would be very unorthodox.”
“I don’t think orthodox will work in this case,” Jessie murmured.
Brenna looked around, and a few of the women were waking and sitting up. Several others were hunched into even more of a ball, too scared to even look. And Brenna couldn’t blame them; nothing nice was out there, from her point of view, but something new had been added into the mix, and she wanted to know more about that. Anything that caused these gunmen a headache was something that Brenna needed to be aware of. Even as she studied the layout, she wondered if it was enough of a distraction to slip out.
Jessie must have understood exactly what Brenna thought, and Jessie shook her head. “Don’t.”
“We have to get out of here,” Brenna said.
“Where will we go?”
Brenna gave no answer to that question because she didn’t know. They were on a hillside, overlooking the water. Boats were down below, but no way could the women get on them and get away fast enough. Even if they did, the boats weren’t speedy and didn’t appear to have big engines. And, even if they did board a boat, Brenna assumed the vehicles had been disabled in some way, so they couldn’t be stolen, but often people forgot about the simple things in life because they were so sure that they were safe where they were.
Brenna glanced around, trying to see where they were, looking for any distinct landmarks. Outside of the fact that they were in the highest point of land in these several pens full of women, if Brenna went through the fence or over, all she could do was get up onto that rise where they were being taken for bathroom breaks. But it was open ground before and after that. Even if she did try to run, a bullet would take her out fast. She sagged in place. “We have to do something,” she said, her gaze frantic, as she looked around.
“You think that boat is a big-enough distraction to actually get out of here?”
“If we could find a way to a safer place, yes,” she said, “but, as it is, we’re just hamstrung right now.”
The two women stared, studying the clumps of bushes all around them. “Even if we got to one of the bushes,” Jessie asked, “what could we do?”
At that moment one of the guards turned and looked at her and Jessie directly. Brenna immediately bowed her head in a submissive posture, hoping that he wouldn’t realize just how awake they were and where their minds were at.
As it was, he walked over and nudged them through the fence. She looked at him, her arms wrapped around her chest, and pointed up at the hill. The guard glared and shook his head. She frowned and sank back down again. The guard kept walking all the way around.
“So, no,” Jessie whispered to Brenna. “Can’t get out that way.”
“The only reason he’d do that,” Brenna whispered, “is because something’s going on, and they can’t take a chance.”
“I want whatever it is going on,” Jessie said, “to go on a whole lot worse. Because this is possibly our break.”
“And it could be nothing.”
As they watched, several men swam toward the bullet-riddled boat and boarded it. When they popped out on deck again several tense minutes later, more shouting ensued.
“I don’t understand anything they’re say
ing,” Brenna said.
“I can barely even hear to make out any of the words, but it’s obvious either they didn’t find anything or whatever they found is already dead,” Jessie murmured.
“And then you have to wonder if they were dead already or dead after all the gunfire.”
“Out here? Who knows? It seems like every man is for himself, and you can only have what you can keep, and everybody out here is willing to take it from you.”
“How can they live like this?” Brenna murmured.
“There’s a code,” she said. “We’re just not privy to it. But even then,” she murmured, “just think about it, how raw and rough it is.”
“I worry about the women,” Brenna said. “They don’t have any hope of getting free of this. And they are from all over the place.”
“It boggles the mind. You’d think they take them from closer by.”
“But then it’s easier to get caught, and you would have pissed-off males in the family added in the mix too.”
“If anybody cares,” Jessie said, bitterness overflowing her voice.
Brenna reached out and squeezed her friend’s hand. “We’ll get out of this,” she said.
Jessie just looked at her, but that glint of defeat was in her eyes.
“Stand strong,” Brenna said.
But Jessie was already too far depressed about it. She sagged back down again, wrapping her hands around her knees, her face resting on top.
“I’m sorry,” Brenna said.
“It’s not your fault,” Jessie murmured. “I just want out of here. And I want out of here fast.”
“Any particular reason?”
“For one, I’m hoping to get married when I get home,” she said in a broken tone.
“Oh, that would be wonderful,” she said. “That’s great news.”
“Not so much while I’m here,” she said, with that same bitterness again. “And there’s another reason why I want to get married.”
Brenna looked at her friend in surprise. “What? What’s going on?”
“I’m pregnant,” she said in the softest of voices.
At that, Brenna looked at her friend in horror.
